


Of Heartbeats and Stardust

by Lore711



Category: Titanic (1997)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Historical, Short & Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-14
Updated: 2019-07-14
Packaged: 2020-06-28 00:55:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 23,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19801366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lore711/pseuds/Lore711
Summary: A stowaway and an officer on the RMS Titanic. A sunset and sinking. When a street rat from Totnes wiggles her way into a fifth officer's life onboard, what happens?





	1. Of Chicks and Officers

Winifred Cook never really stood out. To the wealthy she was a common street rat. She slept on the streets, wore rags and stained cotton, no family, no friends. She was alone in the world. 

But Winifred was happy, to the amazement of those who she spoke with. She was happy because she was free. She had adapted to her rather poor lifestyle. She lived off of what she was given and that was it. 

She took pleasure in the simple things, like swimming in empty ponds and finding tiny trinkets on crowded streets. She always looked forward to waking up just before dawn to watch the sunrise and sunset at the edge of town. She dreamt about the first taste of a crabapple when they first bloomed. She lived for all the little moments she shared with only herself. 

But above all, Winnie liked to travel. It was hard for people like her to even get across the country; they would never dream of going outside of Britain. However, Winnie always managed to find her own way. 

Winnie was clever. She could hitchhike her way to the sea and stow away on a fishing boat in the dead of night. That was how she managed to get to Spain for the first time. 

Witty Winnie was what her friends used to call her. “Witty Winnie, Witty Winnie, show us how to dance. With Spanish moss and apple sauce. We never stood a chance.” 

Winnie travelled all over Europe. From Italy to France, Sweden to Germany. But she’d always end up back at her home town: Totnes, England. 

Totnes was where Winnie was when she first heard about the Titanic; from a particularly excitable man coming from a pub. As soon as he told her about it she knew she had to go. 

The Titanic, however, was a bit more challenging than the cargo ships she usually hid on. It was a passenger ship with officers and security. There were rich people and, if Winnie knew anything about rich people, it was that they loved to feel safe. 

This was to be one of the biggest challenges of her, well, career. 

She caught the first boat to Southampton (which wasn’t very far) and camped out for days on the docks. On the day of April 10th, Winnie stood behind a few crates and barrels, watching the first class passengers strut about in flowing outfits and overflowing pockets.. 

Winnie chuckled as she saw a woman with an overly flamboyant dress try to hide a stumble from her what seemed to be husband. “They look like stuffed peacocks,” she muttered to herself. “Indeed they do,” someone agreed next to her. 

Winnie spun around only to be faced with a red headed boy, not much taller than herself. Usually she would be perturbed that someone had been able to sneak up on her, but she was a good sport. 

“An’ just who might you be?” 

The red headed boy chuckled and held out a dirtied hand. “Fred Davidson at your service, Ma’am.” 

Winnie took “Fred’s” hand and shook it. 

“Winnie Cook, pleasure to meet ya’,” she responded. 

They returned to looking at the passengers. “I bet them coats cost more than me life,” Winnie joked. “Nah.” He shook his head. “Probably twice that.” 

There was a short pause when suddenly Fred spoke as if the idea had just dawned upon him: “You got a ticket?” he asked

. Winnie shook her head, grinning like a cheshire cat. “Ain’t got no money to get ‘em.” She shrugged and looked back to the first class, who were almost all the way on. “I ought to leave and catch the back of that boat before I lose me chance.” 

She heaved a sigh and waved a goodbye. “Hopes to see ya’ onboard?” 

Fred mirrored her grin. “You never know.” 

Winnie found her chance when a servant spilled a load of luggage near the entrance door. The commotion was enough for her to start up the ramp. She ducked behind a woman with an ugly purple dress and waited until one of the officers, with dark brown hair, looked away. Then she snuck past the woman and found the animal storage. It was there that she waited, behind a hay bale, for the ship to start off. 

She waited a rather long time. 

Perhaps an hour or two went by and Winnie was still sitting on the pointy hay, grumbling to herself. “How long do it take for a ship to take off?” She huffed and blew a piece of tangled hair from her face. A chicken clucked near her ear, making her eye twitch. It had been doing that the entire time. “Hush, you,” she ordered. 

The chicken did not stop. 

“Hush,” she repeated again. 

It clucked on. 

“I said hush!” 

She swatted at the chicken, making it let out a distressed squawk. Its chicken companions were sent in a frenzy and Winnie could only watch with an open mouth as a pair of boots descended the steps to where the chickens were. 

“Blast,” she groaned, trying her best to conceal herself behind more itchy hay.

The boots echoed in her ear as they drew closer. “Hello?” a man’s voice called. “I know you’re there…chicken’s don’t say blast.”

Winnie did not budge. 

“Come out! I’m an officer!”

Winnie cringed and let out a groan, which was a mistake. She slapped her hand over her mouth so hard it stung. 

“I heard that!” the officer said. “I see your feet, behind the hay bale. You had better come out…before I have to drag you out.”

Winnie peaked out, only to be met with the officer’s face right in front of her’s. She let out a startled yelp. “Christ!” she screeched. “What the hell are ya’ doing?” 

The officer too jumped back. “That’s rich coming from you!” he snapped, dusting off his crisp new uniform. “Why are you disturbing chickens?”

“Because…” She trailed off. There really was no good excuse. “Because I bloody want to!” she snapped back. 

“You enjoy angering chickens?” the officer echoed incredulously. “What kind of person are you?”

“I don’t like it,” Winnie said, rolling her eyes. She wrung her hands together as she tried to think of a good lie. “I was only looking for something when I accidentally kicked it.” She finished with a proud nod; proud of her lie no less. 

“And what is it that you could possibly be looking for?” the officer asked. His face remained impassive but a smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

She was foiled again. 

“I was…of course, it’s silly really. I, um, I saw these chickens before I got on, you see, and…” A long pause. “I’ve always had a love for chickens and I only wanted to pet it. But it clucked so loudly that I dropped my…erm, I dropped my hanky.”

The officer raised an eyebrow. “Your hanky?”

Winnie nodded fervorously. “Yes, my nan gave it to me when I was a little thing and I’ve cherished it so that I carry it with me wherever I go. When I dropped it, I couldn’t get it back because their little cage was carried off so I just followed them here.” 

The office looked at her for a long moment and then smiled. It was hard to tell if it was a mocking smile or encouraging, but what could be agreed upon was that it was unsettling. Winnie’s eyes widened. “Oh, I see,” the officer said, “you just came to get your hanky.” He nodded and chuckled. Winnie nodded and chuckled as well. “Yep, that’s all.”  
The officer hummed, still nodding and chuckling. “I should like to see this hanky.” His smile grew wider. Winnie blanched. “You want to see it?”

Another nod. 

“Well…I haven’t found it yet!”

The officer stopped nodding and gave her an exaggerated frown. “Oh, you haven’t found it.”

“No,” Winnie said, shaking her head. She donned the same frown. 

“Ah, I see. You haven’t found your nan’s hanky yet. Hm. That’s just fine.”

Winnie smiled again. “Well, if that’s all-”

“How about your ticket?”

She suppressed a groan. “I lost it with me hanky,” she muttered. 

The office, seemingly done with playing, took hold of her wrist. “No ticket, no hanky; I think you’re a stowaway!” 

Winnie wriggled herself free. “I ain’t no bloody stowaway!” she exclaimed. “I’m a passenger!” 

The officer took hold of her again and began to march her towards the stairs. “We’ll see what the captain has to say about that, Ms. Stowaway!”

Winnie knew the jig was up. ““Wait!” she cried, planting her feet on the ground. 

The officer did stop, after much resistance, and looked back with a satisfied expression.

“Alright! Alright! I give up!” 

The officer sighed. “What are you doing on this ship?”

Now that she was being truthful, he let go of her arm

Winnie huffed. “I just wanted to get on the ship,” she mumbled. “But I didn’t have enough money to get a ticket. So I snuck in and hid back here.” Her face contorted to hide a scowl. “But those damn chickens started squawking all at once and then you came back here. And here we is arguing over nothing.”

The officer sighed again, running a hand over his face. They both froze as the horn blew and they both lurched forward. 

“I can’t throw you off now. The boat’s already departed,” the officer groaned. “You’ll have to wait until we dock again.” He paused, looking her over. “I suppose you can’t just stay in the stables, so I’ll allow you to bunk with the rest of 3rd class.” 

Winnie began to smile but was cut off mid…mouth twitch? 

“However! You are, under no circumstances, allowed on the 1st class deck. The other officers will know you’re here and they’ll probably ask you for your ticket and then everything would go to hell.”

The almost-smile was gone. 

“ You find your way to 3rd class; it’s downstairs. Don’t try and talk to the stewards, don’t make a scene, don’t go in any of the public spaces, and don’t come back up until we arrive!”

Winnie stood in shock for a moment. She had never met someone so kind, even if he was a bit harsh. She began to walk away, but before she did, she nodded to the officer. 

“What’s your name?” she asked.

“Harold,” the officer answered. “Harold Lowe.”

He too paused for only a moment before shaking his head and walking away, not bothering to see if Winnie honored the agreement.

Winnie stood behind him, flabbergasted. She managed a chuckle before walking towards the steps that would lead her eventually to the 3rd class bunks. 

As soon as she stepped in, she spotted someone familiar. 

“Hey! Redhead” she exclaimed.

Fred looked up and grinned. “Hey! freckles!” Winnie grinned too. 

“Gah! Ya make me blush.” She plopped herself next to him and let out an unrefined groan. “Officer named ‘Arold Lowe caught me while I was hiding in the stables,” she admitted. “Told me I was to stay hidden until we get to New York.”

“That’s good, isn’t it?” Fred asked. “I mean, that means he doesn’t care too much. He let you go.” 

“Probably cause she was pretty,” a man, Yorkshire perhaps, piped up. “Yup. Those officers are big flirts up there with the first class ladies. But some like to mess with 3rd class, just because they can’t pull one of them rich ones.” 

All the men listening laughed, Winnie joining in. “He must’ve gotten rejected a lot them,” she chuckled. “No sane man would want this girl.” She gave Fred a hearty slap on the back. “He might wanna try another one before he gets with me!”

More laughter erupted. 

“Say, where about is you from? Your accent ain’t from these parts,” a woman, sitting not too far off from Winnie, said. 

“Me? I’m from down Totnes,” Winnie answered. “Why, so am I!” a man boomed from behind her. 

“Then you and me must be kin,” Winnie said, giving the man a jovial handshake. 

Fred laughed along with the rest of the passengers. He and his companion, an Indian fellow, went up deck to do whatever red heads and Indians do (normal, human things?) and Winnie followed, completely disregarding Mr. Lowe’s more than generous conditions.

She soon found herself on top of the deck with an abundance of fancy looking people around her. She went to the very front of the ship next to the bow spirit and looked out into the open sea. She could practically taste the saltwater. 

She threw out her arms and let out a loud laugh. She had missed what the sea air felt like. 

“You!” a familiar voice hissed from behind her. Winnie yelped and jumped around. “Hey!” she exclaimed. “It’s you again.” She clapped him on the back. 

“Good ta see ya, ‘Arold.”

Officer Lowe’s eyes widened. “Are you dimensic? Have you forgotten everything I said? It’s been nearly twenty minutes!” 

He frowned and looked around with weary eyes. “You can’t be up here. Do you realize that this is where the Captain of this ship comes often? You’re on the first class deck, woman! If he sees you, he’ll have my head and either throw you in the brig or put you to works in the kitchen! You’ll be thrown in jail once we get to New York and then sent back to where you came from!” 

Winnie hardly paid attention to what he said. “Don’t worry so much, Officer. It’s all good. Come and see the water with me!” 

Disregarding decency (and personal space) she pulled him to her side and held him with a firm grip. Harold gave up and looked to the sea dejectedly. It was clear he was going to have a hard time with her. He began to think of when they got caught. Would he too be thrown in the brig? Stripped of his duties? Thrown out of-

No, that last thought was dumb.

It was only a little while of unwilling sea watching before Harold had to go, rushing off to fetch some tea for his captain. Winnie heeded his words and made her way down to the 3rd class decks again, smashing into a man while she avoided being seen by a dog walking steward. 

“Woah there!” the man exclaimed in an Irish accent. “Sorry about that,” she responded. “Trying to keep me distance from those officers.” 

The man agreed with a shrug. “Can’t blame you.”

Winnie turned her attention to Fred, who she had spotted sitting on the deck with a small flute. “Hey, red head; we meet again!” Winnie exclaimed. 

“It’s only been twenty minutes, Winnie,” Fred chuckled. He was sitting next to the Irish man. Winnie spotted the cigarette case in his hand. 

“Hey, buddy, me name’s Winnie Cook,” she said suddenly, completely forgetting Fred. “I’m sure we can be right good friends, and as such, how’s about sharing.”

The man obliged with a guffaw. “Name’s Leonard Kelly, from Killarney.”

“Nice to meet ya, Leonard!” 

Leonard turned to Fred. “Ya make any money with playing that thing?” he asked. 

“Not much,” Fred answered. “I play for fun, or when I haven’t got a bit to say.” He looked pointedly at both of them.

“Play us a ditty then, Fred,” Winnie demanded. 

Fred smiled, looking down. “It won’t be good, I tell ya.”

Nonetheless he raised the flute to his lips and played a small melody. It was springy and full of life, but quiet enough to keep attention off of them. Winnie listened intently, the corners of her lips curved in remembrance. 

When Fred finished, both Winnie and Leonard clapped. “Play for fun, boy?” Leonard scoffed. “You could make ten cents an hour in a pub,” Winnie added. Fred blushed. “Tell that to my mum.”


	2. Of Marriage and Captains

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And so the countdown begins

Wednesday night, around 7 p.m, April 10th, aboard the RMS Titanic

Night came sooner than expected and Winnie sat on an empty crate just a ways from the very front of the boat. She was spread out in leisure, holding an unlit cigarette in her mouth. She looked up at the sky and sighed. “I wish every night was like this.” 

“Why, hello there,” a slurred voice said from next to her. Winnie shot up, inching back as she was faced with a fat, red faced man. 

“Hello, sir,” Winnie answered, rolling her eyes. She had dealt with enough drunk men in Totnes; she didn’t think there were any on Titanic. 

“Why would such a lovely mermaid be up on deck like this; you should be in the pool.”

Winnie stifled a laugh. “Oh, ya’ know, I just felt like flopping around for awhile,” she said. “Look, out there is where I usually am.” She pointed to the open sea and the man turned to look. As he did, Winnie reached into his pocket, nicking a tin of cigarettes and a pretty copper watch. 

The man looked back at her and nodded. “Aye, that’s a nice view. You should be getting back to it.” He smiled with his eyes closed. 

“I certainly will,” Winnie answered. Before she could make her exit, a strong hand grabbed her shoulder. Winnie was beginning to think this was a trend now. But it wasn’t another drunk 2nd class man. It was, in fact, the captain of the ship. 

Winnie tensed, shuffling nervously. 

“Evening, sir. What might be the problem?” the captain asked. “No problem, sir,” the drunk man answered. “Just wondering what a mermaid might be doing here.” 

The captain seemed confused for a moment, but caught on soon. “I see,” he mumbled. He called a crew member over to escort the man back to his bunk, and then turned to Winnie. “And you. Miss…”

Winnie began to panic. She couldn’t give her real name, else he might check the passenger records and see that she wasn’t on the list. But she didn’t know what name to give. “Ms…Lowe!” she exclaimed in her best upper class accent. “Or, uh, Mrs. Lowe.”

“Oh! Mrs.Lowe. I never knew Harold had a wife,” the captain marveled.

Winnie chuckled through clenched teeth. “He…doesn’t talk about me much.” 

Speak of the devil. Harold himself came wondering in, eyes widening at the sight of Winnie next to the captain. He saluted respectfully.

“Ah! Harold! We were just speaking about you!” the captain exclaimed. “You were?” Harold asked, his shoulders seeming to slump.

The captain nodded. “Yes! You never told me you were married, Harold! I would’ve liked to meet your wife!”

Harold did a double take. He was screwed either way. If he said he didn’t know her, the captain would wonder how she knew his last name. If he said he was married to her, there would be too many questions and she would have to stick around. 

He flipped a coin. 

“Yes! Ha ha! My wife! We were married a few years ago. Kept it quite quiet, sir. My apologies.” 

The captain waved it off. “No worries, Harold. Get some sleep; your wife looks tired. fourth officer will take over. Go on then.” 

Harold nodded with a tense smile. He took Winnie’s hand and began walking away. Once they were out of sight of the captain, he dropped her hand and glared at her. 

“What in God’s name is wrong with you?”

Winnie frowned. “I’m sorry. I got trapped with a drunk bloke cause he came and started talking.” 

She followed him like a lost puppy as he continued on to the officer’s quarters. “I panicked; didn’t want to give my name. But I didn’t know anyone else’s but Fred’s and Leonard’s, and they don’t have an extra ticket. I figured Captain wouldn’t ask any questions.” 

Harold scowled but waved it off. “Can’t be helped now,” he grumbled. “The officers each have their own room. So you’ll have to stay in my quarters until we’re off this damn boat.”

Winnie shrugged. She had slept in much worse than the bed of a finicky officer; stables and trash mounds, riverbeds and under bridges. She didn’t mind at all. 

“Can I get me bag from third class?” 

“No,” Harold answered. “Ask one of your little friends to get it. You can’ be seen going to the 3rd class things any longer. You are now considered the wife of an officer. You can’t be seen doing things a common street rat would do. And that includes what you’ve got on. I’ll get you something more decent.”

Winnie glanced down at her torn and dirtied clothing. She had never really considered anyone would be offended by it. 

They reached the quarters and Harold held the door open. Winnie stepped in and her mouth dropped. “Look at that!” she exclaimed, quiet enough to not make a scene. “Why’s everything so expensive on this ship?”

Harold watched her with weary eyes. “Here,” he said, throwing her a long white shirt. “Change into that to sleep, lest you get your dirty cloth on my bed sheets. You can have the couch. Tomorrow you’ll be more presentable, tonight, I’m afraid that’s all I can do.”

Winnie nodded dismissively as she stroked the shirt. “So soft,” she whispered. She rubbed it against her dirty cheek. “Can’t remember a time I felt something this soft.” 

Harold watched her with a small smile on his face. He had forgotten what it was like for someone to be amazed by something so simple. All those first class passengers were used to luxurious items, but Winnie was fascinated with just a clean cotton shirt.

He sat next to her. “How do you wash your clothes when they’re dirty?” he asked, glancing down at her skirt with patches sewn in. It looked like it hadn’t been washed in a century. 

“I just jump in the stream for a bit,” she answered. Harold would’ve felt pity but she said it with such normality that he couldn’t. He felt a twinge in his chest but shook it off. 

“You had better get changed. Try to wash off some of that dirt in the sink. I’d like to keep my pillow a bit white.” 

Winnie bristled in indignation but said nothing. She shuffled to the sink and splashed water on her face. It was cold and salty but she hadn’t bathed since she left for South Hampton. 

She scrubbed her cheeks with a towel Harold provided. They felt raw after she was done, but when she ran a hand over them, no dirt came off so it was ok. She washed off her feet and legs, waiting for Harold to leave so she could change into the white shirt. 

She felt a lot better after that. 

Harold came back in and nodded in approval. “Better.” He gestured to the couch and she sat down. He took the bed and threw her a quilt. “Use that; it gets cold at night.” 

She took it and smiled gratefully. “Thank you.” 

Harold did not answer as he laid down, putting a pillow over his head. 

Winnie too laid down, restraining herself from raving about how soft the quilt was. “Good night,” she called. Harold answered with a grumble.


	3. Of Tea and Pirates

Thursday morning, around 7:30 a.m., April 11th aboard the RMS Titanic

The next morning Harold woke up to the sound of a loud “blast”. He looked up and saw Winnie sprawled out on the floor, tangled in the quilt. She glanced at him and managed a smile. “Morning.”

Harold groaned, getting up and stretching. He ignored her as he shuffled over to the sink and splashed a handful of water on his face. “Turn around,” he droned. Winnie scrambled to put the quilt over her head. 

As he buttoned up his shirt he watched as she moved underneath the quilt. It looked like a confused ghost. 

“I’m done,” he announced as he finished pulling on his pants. Winnie threw the quilt off of her head to reveal the sloppiest braid he had ever seen. 

“Me too.” 

Harold paused, flabbergasted. “What…what did you do to your hair?”

Winnie pursed her lips. “I did it, all proper like the fancy ladies.” She shifted a bit. Harold sighed. “Jesus help me.” He took in a deep breath. “Listen, Winnie, I’m going to go find you a dress and you’re going to wear it. In the meantime, please try to make your hair…” He paused, looking at her hair once again. “Less like that.” 

He didn’t wait for a response as he walked out of the room. Winnie groaned, undoing her hair and sitting in front of the small mirror he had above the sink. “Here we go again.” 

An hour later and Winnie was dressed and ready to go. Harold had ended up doing his best with her hair, and it looked decent after many, many arguments. 

Harold and Winnie stepped onto the deck in awkward silence. “So, I’ll be heading onto my shift soon,” he said, tipping his hat to a group of 1st class passengers. “And obviously the captain won’t let you come with me, so you’ll have to mingle up here.” 

He waited for a response but Winnie's face remained impassive. 

“With the 1st class ladies,” he added. 

Winnie’s mouth fell open. “Oh!” she groaned. “But Harold, I haven’t got the speaking skills or social skills to keep up with them folk. I’ll make a fool out of myself.” 

Harold shook his head firmly. “No excuses, Winnie. You got us into this mess, now you’re going to keep up with it.” 

Winnie whined a bit, but, after seeing he wasn’t budging, stopped and squared her shoulders. “Fine, yes, you’re right. I’ve dug my grave, now I’ll pull myself out of the damn thing.” 

She linked arms with him and marched further onto the deck. Harold fought back a smile. “You’ll have breakfast right?” she asked. 

Harold nodded. “Yes, I figure that’s enough time to solidify the relationship, or some might be skeptical. The captain will be a bit more lenient with us if he sees we’re affectionate.” 

They reached the Cafe Parisien where many of the 1st class ladies were seated with their friends. Harold held the door open and Winnie stepped in, shrinking in size as all eyes fell on her. 

Harold stepped back to her side, taking her hand in his. “I apologize for these shows of affection,” he whispered in her ear. He nodded to some of the passengers and found his way to a pair of seats near a window.

Three women who sat in front of them turned around. “Sorry to bother you,” one of them said, a large lady with dark brown hair and a feathered hat. “But are you Mr and Mrs. Lowe?” 

When Harold nodded, the ladies exchanged excited glances.

“You’re the talk of the ship right now; none of us knew officers were allowed to bring their wives with them.” 

“Oh, I kind of just snuck in,” Winnie answered. 

Another exchange of glances. 

“Did the captain not know?” another woman asked. 

Harold kicked Winnie lightly under the table and laughed. “She’s joking of course. The Captain knew Winnie was coming, but I forgot to mention she was my wife. We like to keep it on the down low.” 

He gave them a forced smile and turned back around, giving Winnie a tense look. 

Winnie shrugged. 

They were given a bowl of baked apples, oats and tea. They barely ate any of it. 

Breakfast went by slower than any meal the both of them had ever had, and both were relieved when Harold had to go. “I’ll leave you here, then, Winnie,” he said. 

Both stood up. He looked around and spotted a group of crewmembers he knew; they were looking right in. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. Winnie furrowed her eyebrows. “Sorry for wha-”

She was cut off as he pressed a long kiss to her forehead. She managed to keep her mouth shut, catching on to what he was doing. “Oh.” 

Once he pulled away, the crew members outside walked away chuckling to themselves. Harold groaned. “Pigs; the lot of them. Lot of good it does them to see a man kissing his wife.” 

He looked back to Winnie, who was still surprised. “Sorry again; they were expecting something. I suppose it could’ve been worse.” He smirked. “You washed your face last night; imagine what it would have been kissing a dirty forehead.” 

Winnie pursed her lips, a bit hurt. “Well, I wasn’t that dirty,” she mumbled but Harold didn’t hear. 

“I’ll leave you now and come back for lunch around twelve. Please don’t get into any trouble.” He waved and walked off, leaving Winnie torn behind him. 

The following hours, Winnie was left in misery. She realized very quickly that she did not have the freedom on the 1st class deck as she did on the 3rd. She couldn’t kick up her legs and smoke a cigarette like she wanted. Couldn’t burst into song whenever she was feeling especially merry. Couldn’t throw back a few cups of ale like she did in the pubs at home. 

She was just sitting, sober and grumpy, sipping her bland tea and nibbling biscuits. Her boredom was put on hold, momentarily, when a group of women came up to her. 

“Good morning,” one said, a woman with an American accent greeted. “I’m Mrs. Beckwith, this is Mrs. Bishop and Mrs. Bucknell.” 

Winnie smiled, holding out a hand like Harold had told her. “I’m Mrs Winifred…Lowe,” she answered. 

The three women sat down and were given their own cups of bland tea. 

“So, you’re married to Mr. Lowe? The 5th officer of the ship?” Mrs. Bishop asked. Winnie nodded, struggling through another sip of tea. “I am.” 

“How did you two meet?” Mrs. Beckwith said. 

Winnie grimaced on the inside, her mind reeling with pure lies. “Oh!” she exclaimed with a wide smile. “It was so romantic. I met Harold when he was just a teenager in the navy. He saw me when I was walking along the pier with my friends and started to talk to me. I was taken by his charm and looks, might I add, and he began courting me.”

She paused, hoping that was all the bs she needed for one day but the three ladies looked at her for more. Winnie cringed. 

“We met on a Wednesday and married the Sunday after. Our families didn’t know about it; you know, his were so far away and mine were all gone. So it was just the two of us and his best friend who died later that month at sea. No one knew so that’s why a lot of the crew didn’t know about little ol’ me.” Winnie hid a laugh by taking a short sip of tea, which she deeply regretted later. 

All women smiled.

“That’s so romantic!” Mrs. Bucknell cooed. “Oh, but you must tell us of your life before you met Mr. Lowe. ”

Winnie could scream; it was hard thinking of extensive backstories on the spot, and even harder to remember them for later, lest she get tripped up. 

“I was born in St Albans, England. My mother and father had two other children. We were of higher class, so we didn’t have to struggle. When I was fourteen, my whole family was taken out by the flu.” She paused for effect, and to think of more.

“I was with my friends in France when I found out. I couldn’t go back to St. Albans so I went out to Plymouth, England to stay with a family friend. I met Harold there.”

Mrs. Bishop took Winnie’s hand and squeezed it lightly. “Oh, that’s lovely. I’m sorry you’ve been through so much at such a young age.”

Winnie smiled again; she was smiling so much she felt like her cheeks would split. “I’ve grown wiser, Mrs. Bishop, and that is all one needs.”

Mrs. Beckwith opened her mouth and let out an excited “oh”. 

“Emma (Mrs. Bucknell), let’s have Winifred join us while we walk the decks, yes?”

Mrs. Bucknell nodded and turned to Winnie. “Why don’t you come with us now.” 

Winnie shook her head. “Actually, Harold’s coming to lunch with me at twelve so-”

“Oh! That’s fine! It’s only eleven so you’ll have a whole hour to spare. I’m sure Mr. Lowe won’t come any earlier; he is an officer.” 

Winnie struggled to find an excuse. “Well, I mean.” She sighed in defeat. “Fine.” 

The long walk across the decks were, perhaps, even more bland than the tea. Winnie’s feet hurt in the awful heels Harold had given her. Her hair hurt from all the bobby pins. It was cold out but she was sweating buckets by the time they circled around. 

Twelve O'clock came all too slow

“Oh, it’s such a shame you can’t stay with us for lunch,” Mrs. Bishop pouted. Mrs. Bucknell and Mrs. Beckwith nodded in agreement. Winnie could tell a proposition was about to aririse; again. 

“Yes, what a shame,” she agreed. She looked up and grinned. “But, oh, there’s my husband now. Dearest!” 

She waved Harold over with more enthusiasm she thought she could muster in the dress she had on. He approached with weary eyes, giving a tense smile to the three women. 

“Ladies,” he greeted, tipping his hat. He wrapped an arm around Winnie’s waist and pulled her close. “ I’ve just come to escort my wife to lunch. I’m glad you kept her company.” 

The three women giggled, hiding their faces. “Never a problem,” Mrs. Bucknell answered. “Winifred is a wonderful walking companion; it was a pleasure to have her around.”

“But we’ll see each other again this evening, won’t we?” Mrs. Bishop piped up. “I’m sure you two can make it to dinner.” 

Winnie nodded just to get rid of them. “I’ll see you,” she agreed, wiggling her fingers in farewell. 

The three women sauntered off, leaving Winnie and Harold alone. “I take it they like you,” Harold said while escorting Winnie to a table farther away where their lunch was set. 

“Yes, they do,” Winnie answered, pulling away from him and avoiding eye contact. She sat down, eyeing the meal they had been given. Harold didn’t sense her discomfort. “It’s not much,” he said. “But I’ve ordered a simple chicken pot pie.” 

He pulled off the top to reveal a small pie, steam coming out from the top. Winnie’s eyes widened considerably. Harold, thinking he had done something wrong, waved his hands. “It doesn’t have to be chicken pot pie. I can order something else” 

Winnie shook her head, her anger dissipating. “No. Chicken pot pie’s perfect. I…I was just, you know, surprised. I’ve never really had a fancy meal. The last time I ate a cooked meal was back when I was a kid.” 

She laughed and blinked the water away from her eyes. “Look at me. I’m all…stuffy and emotional.” She gestured to the meal. “Come on. You have the first bite.” 

Harold sat down across from her and both ate in comfortable silence. Winnie began humming a mindless tune to an old sailor’s song and Harold tapped his foot. Both did not notice this. 

“Oh, that’s adorable,” someone said as they walked past. 

Both looked up at each other, the music stopping. Winnie’s mouth was full of pie. Harold hadn’t swallowed his sip of water. They blinked. Then laughed. “Where’d you learn that tune?” he asked. 

Winnie shrugged. “My uncle was a sailor and used to teach me songs when he came back from sea.” She smiled down at her plate bashfully “He was my favorite person when I was a 

kid but I haven’t heard from him since I was ten.”

Harold found himself smiling at her shyness. “What line did your uncle sail with?” he asked, in hopes that he could find him for her. He didn’t know why he felt the need to help her, but he did. 

“Oh,” Winnie said, her face turning a deep shade of scarlett. “He didn’t really, um, sail with any lines.” 

Harold’s eyes widened. “Oh! The navy? I was in the navy! I might’ve known him!” 

Winnie shook her head in shame. “Not that either; he was more of a…pirate?”

Harold furrowed his eyebrows. “Pirate?” he echoed, then scoffed. “There haven’t been pirates since the early 1800s.” 

Winnie shook her head. “No, my uncle was a pirate! He always brought back things he got from the Carribean islands and Asia. That’s how I got my first knife.” 

Harold stared at her in disbelief. “I don’t believe you.” 

Winnie huffed. “You just wait! When I get my bag I’ll show you. My uncle was a pirate, and he dodged judgemental arses like you all over the Atlantic. You and your navy.” She scowled, standing up to leave. 

Harold groaned, grabbing her wrist. “Okay, okay. I’m sorry.” 

She frowned but sat back down. His hand still clutched her wrist, softer than before. “I believe you, ok? Just…don’t go running off.”

Winnie’s eyes softened and she looked at him in a new light. “It’s fine. I shouldn’t have gotten so angry.” She smiled again. “I really appreciate what you’re doing for me.” 

Harold tilted his head. “A chicken pot pie’s nothing to thank me about.”

“No, about this whole…marriage thing.”

Something flashed through his eyes and he pulled away. “Oh, right.” He hesitated, removing his hand from hers. “Yes, well.” He put on a smile. “This is beneficial for the both of us.” 

Another pause and he looked down at his watch. “I should get going if I want to make it on time to my shift.” 

He gave her a tight smile. “I’ll leave you then.” He looked around at the other passengers watching them. “We’ll have to do this again.” He leaned down and pressed a long kiss to her cheek. Winnie sucked in a small breath, her eyes squeezing shut. Luckily, her tense expression was hidden behind Harold.

He pulled away just a bit, a mixed look in his eyes that Winnie couldn’t see. “I apologize,” he said next to her ear. His breath was hot and she shivered. “I’ll see you in the cabin; my shift starts at 8. ”

He was gone in the blink of an eye. 

The rest of the afternoon was a blur. Winnie didn’t do much but walk around the library. The 1st class offered a great range of books but she stuck to the children’s section. She wasn’t illiterate, even though she was a street rat, but even though she learned how to read, she couldn’t find the time to care about long adult novels. She preferred children’s stories and fables. They reminded her of the stories her father told her as a child. 

After a few hours of tirelessly flipping through Gulliver’s Travels, the sky began to dim. Winnie looked up from the book and to the sky. “Evening,” she muttered. “I should get back to Harold’s room.” 

Despite this she took her time as she made her way across the deck. It was around 8:05 when she found herself in the hall with all the officers’ rooms. Harold was just coming out, looking rushed. 

He looked up and his expression shifted. “I thought you were coming back before 8?” he said. Winnie smiled nervously. “I got caught up reading a book?”

Harold sighed, shaking his head as he began to walk to the exit. “No matter. I’m off so you should get some rest; did you eat?” 

Winnie’s mouth fell open. She hadn’t eaten; she completely forgot about dinner. “Well…” she started. “I had supposed we would go together after I got back but now that I think about it, since your shifts take awhile, you won’t be back until midnight and that’s no time to eat.” 

Harold, looking exasperated, jogged down the hallway and disappeared around the corner with a “wait here.” 

It was only minutes later before he came jogging back, a basket of bread in his right hand and two jars of jam and butter in his left. He stopped in front of her and shoved it in her hands. 

“Here,” he said. “It’s not much but it’s better than eating nothing.”

Winnie fought the wide smile creeping over her face. “Thank you,” she said. 

Harold waved his hand, turning away to leave. “Just eat and go to bed.”

He began to leave but Winnie trailed after him. He only realized she was still there when he made it onto the deck. 

“What is it now?” he demanded. 

“Have you eaten?” she asked. He paused, looking puzzled. “Well, I ate briefly before I slept.”

Winnie shoved two rolls of bread back at him. “Here then; eat with me. You can still do your rounds.” 

With that she began to pull him towards the edge of the deck where they could get a good view of the sunset. She chewed on one of the rolls as she did. Harold, it seemed, had completely given up. He too began to eat his roll. 

“Is this what you do for fun?” he asked. Winnie shrugged. “I always liked watching it at the edge of town by myself. My father used to take me when I was little…but he died.” 

Harold began to apologize but Winnie waved it off. “It’s alright. That was ages ago. It made me tough.” She patted her heart but still her eyes were sad. “I’ve never shared it with anyone else but him; not since I was eight. But now,” She smiled up at him, “I get to share it with you; my pathetic attempt at repaying you for all you’ve done for me.”

Harold was quiet for a long while. Winnie looked out at the sea and he looked down at her. He only just began to notice how nice her mess of curly chocolate hair looked as it blew this way and that in the wind. He noticed how her honey hazel eyes glowed in the golden sunset light. He noticed how nice it felt as she held onto him, how nice it felt to have someone care enough about him to hold him close. 

He supposed he could enjoy this marriage thing while it lasted.


	4. Of Red Lips and Pinching Cheeks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Romance? Not my forte. But did I try? Hell yeah

Saturday night, around 6:30 p.m., April 13th aboard the RMS Titanic

Friday went by with little problems and Saturday was, to say the least, an uneventful day. Harold worked and slept in a vicious cycle; Winnie took notice of his exhaustion and kept out of his way. She spent most of her time avoiding the gossiping 1st class ladies and in the library. She had since finished Gulliver’s Travels and moved on to Oliver Twist. 

When she wasn’t reading she was hanging down in 3rd class, since she had nothing better to do. They didn’t ask as many questions and Leo paid for her drinks. She refrained from drinking more than two glasses, though, in fear of angering Harold. 

It was 6:30 when she made her way back to Harold’s room. He had told her earlier that day that Captain Smith wanted to dine with them. It was a bit inconvenient, seeing as though it would take away from Harold’s sleeping time, but the captain got what he wanted. Who was Harold to go against his wishes?

She took the book with her as she made her way back to the officer’s quarters, exchanging an awkward glance with another passing officer, whose eyes widened at the sight of her. 

When she opened the door, Harold was already standing in the room facing an elegant dress spread out on the bed. He turned to her and smiled. “Hello, Winnie.”

Winnie smiled and looked down, her cheeks heating up. She hoped he didn’t notice. “Evening, Harold.” 

They set to work on the dress, a quiet yellow one with silver embroidery around the chest area. Winnie, of course, had no idea how to get into it. Save for the shirt that Harold had given her and the new dress, she hadn’t switched her dress in over five years. Perhaps that was why it smelled like home (and the river). 

Surprising to the both of them was the fact that the dress fit Winnie well. It hugged her waist and hips without overexgarrating her bust. Her slim figure could be attributed to her diet; eat when you find food. 

Harold turned out to have gotten better at hair over the day and pinned some of her hair up in a wave and let the rest hang down. Her hair went way past the middle of her back, but the slight updo made it hung just above her bottom. 

Winnie gazed at herself in the mirror. She felt like a different person. If she didn’t know any better she wouldn’t recognize herself. Harold stood behind her trying hard not to admire his work. 

“I couldn’t find any lipstick,” he mentioned. “Or rouge. And it’s quite popular nowadays, or so I heard.”

Winnie thought for awhile. “Well,” she said. “My mother used to pinch my cheeks and they got very pink.” She pinched her cheeks. “Are they different?” 

Harold shook his head. “Maybe if you did it for longer.” 

Winnie nodded thoughtfully. “Ok, you pinch this one and I’ll pinch the other for about a minute and we’ll see how pink they get.” 

It was very awkward but Harold pinched her left cheek and she pinched her right. A minute of silence went by with just pinching and Harold let go after he had counted to sixty. 

“How about now?” Winnie asked. 

Harold nodded. “Yes, they are pink.” 

Now for the lips. 

“I don’t suppose we could pinch your lips?” Harold suggested. Winnie shook her head. “No, I don’t think that would work.” 

She crossed her arms as she thought. “When I was a teenager, I ran into this woman. She had been kissing this man but when she started she didn’t have any lipstick on. When she pulled away her lips were very red.”

Harold nodded again. “So if you kiss someone, your lips will get red?” 

“I think so,” Winnie answered. 

“I’ll kiss you, but remember, it is strictly for the purpose of making your lips red.” He said that firmly. 

Winnie agreed and waited for him to lean in. He did, excruciatingly slow, and pressed his lips to hers. It was tense, like kissing a statue. Neither moved. 

Harold was the one to pull away after only a few seconds and appeared disappointed. Winnie let out a breath. “Did it work?” 

A head shake. 

“Perhaps we’re missing something,” Harold suggested. Winnie scrunched her eyebrows together. “Harry,” she murmured. “They were kissing for a very long time.”

There was another long pause. 

Harry swallowed thickly and Winnie pressed her lips together so tight they began to pale. 

“I mean,” he started, “Only if you know it will work.”

Winnie nodded. “I know it will! I saw it with my own two eyes! One minute her lips were clear and the next they were red. It was because she kissed that man for so long, I’m sure of it!”

Harry sighed. “Fine. Just, let me do it. I’ve kissed girls before so I know what I’m doing.” 

She hummed in agreement. 

“Okay. Don’t freak out.” 

He cupped her cheek and leaned in again. When their lips touched this time, Winnie’s eyes fluttered closed. All at once she felt her knees weaken and his other arm was wrapped around her waist.

Her heart sped up with each movement he made and her stomach erupted into millions of butterflies as she felt his tongue prodding against her bottom lip. She couldn’t help but let out a shaky breath as he pulled away for only a second and then he was once more upon her like a moth to a flame. 

Her lips grew hot as he did his best to put pressure on them. It was all a flurry of hot breath and tongue. She couldn’t tell if the sensation of sucking lips was good, but she couldn’t find the urge to care. 

All she was focused on was the beating of her heart. It was racing so fast she was sure it would burst right out of chest. His hand on her cheek had moved to hold her chin at an angle. 

She realized they had made their way to the wall, her back pressed against it. Still his arm wrapped around her waist, clinging so tightly it felt like an anaconda. 

Something hot was coiling around her stomach. It made her knees shake and lips quiver. Her arms that had been dangling by her side came up to snake around his neck. They pulled away again for a breath of air. 

Harry noticed her lips were already red. 

He went back in, nipping her lip for entrance. Winnie gasped, opening her mouth. They were a mess of prodding and stabbing tongues. Winnie tasted of jasmine tea and crumpets. Harry revelled in it. He licked the inside of her lip, pulling away only for a moment to bite at her bottom lip again. 

Harry tasted of cigarettes and a million other spices Winnie couldn’t think of. Her arms coiled further around his neck until their chests were pressed together. Her back arched against the wall and her toes curled against the cold floor. 

They pulled away again, but instead of stopping, Harry went to her neck. Winnie pressed her lips together to muffle the groan threatening to escape. “Harry,” she struggled out. 

He didn’t hear her as he went up and down her neck, his hand going to the back of her hair. 

“Harry,” she said again. She didn’t want to stop but…

Harry pulled away all too soon. He stood almost a foot away from her, his hand over his mouth. His shoulders heaved with every deep breath he took. Winnie was still against the wall. She breathed just as hard. 

“Oh, God,” Harry muttered. Winnie ran a finger over her lips which were pulsating. They ached, but a good ache. “Winnie, I’m-”

He cut himself off as he stood straighter, smoothing out his suit. “Your lips are red now,” he mumbled. “Put on your shoes. I’ll meet you outside.” 

He hurried out of the door, leaving Winnie alone. 

Winnie wrung her hands together as she paced around the room. The kiss had been strictly business; they had agreed upon it. But it just felt so…

She sighed and smiled. It was so real, like they were a real couple. The kiss was like a scene in the books with handsome knights and princesses. Just the kiss would’ve been normal, but the way he had nipped at her neck…

Winnie wrapped her arms around herself, looking at the door where she imagined Harry was standing outside of. He had looked so ashamed? Was it because he had gone too far or because he couldn’t believe he had kissed her; a dirty street rat he had just met. 

Winnie cringed at the thought, remembering how he had looked at her when they first met. She was a stowaway, too poor to even buy a 3rd class ticket. She had lied so much he was stuck with her, in his room, having to deal with lying and taking care of her. 

Shaking her head, she remembered why she was here. She had done him wrong, had lied and put him in a bad situation. Now he was just doing all he could to save their asses. Nothing more. He was just going above and beyond what he needed to do. 

With that thought echoing in her mind, Winnie slipped on her uncomfortable shoes and joined Harry outside. She was surprised to find him leaning against the wall, his hand still touching his lips. 

When he heard the door open he shot up, his hands clasped behind his back. “Winnie,” he said, his voice hoarse. 

Winnie smiled a tight smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Ready?” she asked. Harry paused, searching her eyes for something he didn’t know to look for. “Yeah,” he answered. “Let’s go.” 

They refrained from linking arms until after they left the hallway. They walked the deck, acting as affectionate as was appropriate for the passengers who looked. When they reached the staircase, Winnie stopped. 

“Just because I know they’re gonna ask questions,” she started, “Those ladies asked me questions and I had to answer.” 

Harry sighed. “What did you tell them?”

“It’s about how we met,” she answered. “If anyone asks, we met when we were teenagers; you were in the navy. I-”  
“How did you know I was in the navy?” he demanded. 

Winnie spluttered. “Well, I’ve met sailors before, in the navy. And you all tend to act the same.” She gave him a weak smile. “I guessed, honestly.” 

Harry nodded, impressed. 

“Anyway, we met one day when I was with my friends on the peer. You came up and talked to me. Now this is important; we met on a Wednesday and married that Wednesday after.”

Harry scoffed. “That’s ridiculous. Dating takes time and effort. Why would I marry you seven days after meeting you?” 

Winnie frowned. “I thought it was romantic.” She shook her head dismissively. “Whatever. That’s the story so don’t mess it up or else we’re both screwed.” 

She linked their arms again and marched towards the staircase. They descended with the elegance saved only for the Disney princesses, sending smiles to the people who waved at them. 

The Captain, Edward Smith, and his guests sat at a table near the back of the dining room. They waved as Harry and Winnie approached. 

“You sit here!” Captain Smith said in a booming voice, gesturing to the seats on either side of him. Harry pulled out the seat for Winnie to the captain’s right then took the one on his left. At the table were a couple with dark brown hair and elaborate clothing. Another man sat farther down with dark hair and a soft face. He sent Winnie a small smile. Apart from him, a young lady sat alone across from a young man with a large mustache. They observed Winnie and Harry closely. 

“Now that our lovebirds have arrived,” Captain Smith said once everyone was situated. “Come on! Bring the food!” He waved to the waiters who had been waiting for a cue. They placed bowls of soup in front of each guest, then hurried back off. 

Few guests ate. 

“This is Mr and Mrs. Astor,” Captain Smith introduced, gesturing to the dark hair couple. Winnie smiled and nodded. “That’s Mr. Andrews; he built this ship. That’s Ms. Gibson down there and across from her is Mr. Ismay.” 

They both acknowledged with nods. 

“Winifred,” Mrs. Astor started. Winnie couldn’t help but be surprised she knew her name. “You and Officer Lowe are the talk of the ship.” She glanced at her husband for a brief moment. “It was so unexpected when the captain mentioned one of the officers had brought his wife along with him. Why didn’t you mention that you were married?” 

Winnie and Harry looked at each other in masked panic. “We got married at such a young age,” Winnie started. “And when I was in the navy it took a long while to get back to her. We were living apart for so long before I was employed on the Titanic; we barely got to see each other,” Harry finished. 

“He sent me a letter telling me to come to South Hampton for the boarding but I was so late that I didn’t get to introduce myself to the captain or any of the other officers,” Winnie added, laughing for effect. 

Captain Smith nodded along. 

“Where did you live while Officer Lowe was sailing?” Ms. Gibson asked from the end of the table. She had been listening intently. 

“Clovelly,” Winnie said the first town that she had thought of. She had been there a few years ago; it was the kind of place she would have liked to live if she were to settle down. “It wasn’t much but we bought a small cottage near the sea; just enough room for the two of us. One of those stone ones.”

“Oh, it must’ve been dreadfully cold,” Mr. Ismay said, shivering dramatically. “The sea in Britain is so cold all year round. The only people I know to live around there were desperate fishermen. However did you find the funds to eat; sailors don’t make much to send home, mind you.” 

Harry hid a scowl through a spoonful of soup. He didn’t like this Ismay one bit. “Winnie had plenty of money to survive off of,” he said. “But we prefer to save and not spend money frivolously.” He glanced at Mr.Ismay’s golden pocket watch and raised an eyebrow. 

There was a long pause in which Mr. Ismay gave Harry a hard stare. Harry didn’t bother looking back. 

“When do you plan on having children?” Mr. Astor asked, trying to lighten the mood. He glanced over at Mrs. Astor and took hold of her hand. 

“Whenever Winnie feels like it,” Harry answered. “I’ve always liked the idea of children, but I’ll want to wait for Winnie to agree. I want nothing more than her consent. Isn’t that right, darling?” 

Winnie felt her heart skip a beat. She fought through it with her teeth clenched. “That’s right,” she answered in a quiet tone. 

Soon the men were leaving for cigars and brandy in the smoking room. Harry had to leave to relieve an officer. “I’ll see you when I get back,” he said, kissing her on the corner of the mouth. 

“When will that be?” Winnie asked, cherishing the brief exchange. “Sometime around twelve. You’ll be asleep by then, darling. I’ll try not to wake you.”

Winnie hid a blush as she glanced at the two women watching them. “Hurry back or I fear I’ll miss you too much.” She said that louder this time. 

He was gone and Winnie was left with the two women. Sensing more questions to come, Winnie stood and brushed off her dress. “That was a lovely meal, ladies,” she said. “However, I think I’ll retire to watch the stars…alone.” 

Before they could protest, Winnie hurried off up the grand staircase and onto the deck. It took her only a few minutes to go from the 1st class deck to the third where Fred and Leonard sat smoking. 

Their eyes widened at the sight of her. “Is that Winnie Cook from just a day ago?” Leonard demanded. Winnie grinned, finally able to let her shoulders slouch. “Aye! Is that Leonard from Killarney!” 

She sat next to him and threw an arm around his shoulder. “How’ve you been Fred? Leo?” 

They both shrugged. “Not as busy as you,” Fred chuckled. He looked her up and down and shook his head in disbelief. “Last time I saw you you were dressed in a flour sack.” 

Winnie scoffed. “Aye, and I’d love to have that flour sack back on me than this mess.” She shifted in discomfort. “These dresses’ll be the very death of me.”

“Fancy a drink?” Leo asked. “You’ll need more than a few with that shite on.” 

Winnie laughed a boisterous laugh, standing up and heaving him up with her. “You just wait! I bet I can drink circles round the both of you.” 

She speed walked to the smoking room where a few pairs of tables and a benched st spread out. Fred and Leo followed, attempting to beat her to the door. They collided as Fred got his hand on the handle. 

Winnie cackled as she wiggled her way between the two, beating them to the first chair by merely a second. “I win.” 

Fred and Leonard sighed in defeat, taking a seat around the table. “Be a gent and get us a few,” Winnie suggested, giving Leonard a pat on the back. When he groaned she gave him an “encouraging” push. 

Fred raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything. Winnie noticed the look and grinned. “I know I shouldn’t be drinking like a man; but you understand, Fred. A girl needs a drink after more than an hour with those blokes.” 

Before she knew it she was surrounded by both men and women alike dancing until she felt her legs would snap and her heart would beat so fast it would have to take a few minutes to rest. 

Her fun went well into the night until a group of steward came, apparently sent from the upper decks, and sent everyone to bed. She didn’t know what time it was when she practically crawled her way to the officer’s quarters, her dressed stained with ale and whatever else. 

She assumed Harry was still on duty. 

As she pushed open the door to their room, she was surprised to see Harry sitting on the bed. He looked up as soon as she poked her head in and gave her a scowl. “Where have you been?” he demanded. 

Winnie blinked and raised her eyebrows. “Downstairs,” she answered lamely. 

Harry stood up, taking hold of her wrist and pulling her further into the room. “You reak of ale,” he snapped. “And your dress is ruined.” 

It took awhile for her to respond. “Well, at least I got one good wear out of it?” She gave a weak smile. 

Harry shook his head, looking as if he wanted to say more, but he paused, glancing down at her lips. He looked away. 

“Just…get some sleep. You know I haven’t slept this whole time; I thought one of those drunk 3rd class passengers abducted you or something. To think I was worried.” He walked over to the couch and grabbed the quilt Winnie had used the night before. 

“You can have the bed,” he grumbled. “I’ll be up in two hours.”

Winnie pouted as she wiggled out of her dress and slipped on Harry’s shirt. She didn’t protest sleeping in the bed; it was even softer than the couch. 

She gazed up at the ceiling, waiting for a sound or a snore or something. Her head wasn’t clear enough to be sorry but she knew she didn’t want him to be angry at her. “Harry,” she called.

No response. 

“Harry,” she said again. 

A groan. “What is it, Winnie?”  
“Thank you for caring about me.”

A long pause. 

“I don’t really have a choice, do I?”

That night she dreamt about a little stone cottage by the sea.


	5. Of Breakfast in Bed and Trying New Things

Sunday morning, around 8 a.m, April 14th aboard the RMS Titanic 

It was light out when Winniw awoke with a start. Harry was in the middle of unbuttoning his shirt, one of his shoes on and the other halfway across the room. He looked up at her and smiled weakly. 

“Sorry,” he said. “My shift is over so…” 

Winnie scrambled out of the bed, doing her best to keep the shirt covering her thighs. “You can have the bed,” she said. “I know your shifts are hard.”

She actually didn’t know but she had observed the bags under his eyes before he had…

She shook her head but Harry had caught it. He gave her a torn smile. “You couldn’t have had more than six hours of sleep,” he said. “I can take the couch again.”

“No!” Winnie responded. “I’m not used to sleeping for a long time. I got a book from the library; I’m fine reading it while you sleep.” She smiled weakly. “Please?”

Harry bit the inside of his cheek to stop any protest. “Alright,” he relented. “Just, if you’re uncomfortable, wake me. I’ll be up before noon so I can walk you to lunch perhaps?” 

Winnie hummed in response, grabbing Gulliver’s Travels from the nightstand and sitting on the couch. Harry was asleep in a moment. 

Now, in Winnie’s defense, she tried to read; tried. Three hours went past before she finally got tired of reading. She knew she had promised she was just fine sitting on the couch, but her back was getting tired and so were her eyes. One could only read for so long before it became…boring. 

It was an hour before Harry had to be off to work. She knew he hadn’t eaten, and it was around lunch time. She grinned to herself as she stood from the couch, slipping on another dress Harry had gotten for her. After she had decided she looked semi-presentable, she tiptoed out of the room. 

The hallway was surprisingly silent for such a big ship. That was probably because all officers were either sleeping or on duty. Winnie walked out of the hall and onto the deck where she knew the cafe was. 

She was given a small portion of porridge and milk, fresh fruit and bread and butter. It wasn’t much but she knew it was better than anything he would scarf down on the way to the deck. 

She was back in the room in a few minutes and Harry had just started to wake up. His head stretched towards the door as Winnie entered. He gave her a sleepy grin. “Where did you run off too?” 

Winnie placed the plates of food on the nightstand and stood by the bedside. “I thought you might be hungry.” 

Harry gazed up at her with a look she couldn’t quite decipher. “Winnie,” he said quietly. Winnie tilted her head. “Yes, Harry?” 

“This was really nice of you.” 

Winnie smiled and blushed. “It was the least I could do.” She motioned towards the plates. “Eat.” 

Harry didn’t move. 

Winnie sighed and smiled again. “Harold Lowe, if you don’t eat your porridge, I’ll have to feed it to you my-”

“Winnie,” he repeated. Winnie huffed. “Yes, Harry?” 

It was like a broken record. 

“Winnie, I wanted to ask you something.” He said it with such unease Winnie almost felt bad. “Sure,” she answered. 

“I’ve been thinking a lot all night, like when you were gone in 3rd class, or out in the hallway before we went to dinner.” He pressed his lips together, sitting up against the wall. “And I’ve been having this same feeling each and every time I think about it, it’s like I’m missing something or I’ve done something wrong.”

Winnie frowned. “Harry, you were only helping me when we kissed. You don’t have to feel bad about it.” Despite this, she felt a knot in her throat. 

Harry shook his head. “No! It’s not like that…it’s just.” He huffed in frustration. “Can you sit down?” he asked, patting the bed. 

Winnie obeyed with a worried look. “Harry, I’m sure we can find a way for me to sleep in another room if you’re uncomfortable.”  
Another head shake. 

“No, Winnie, that’s the thing. I don’t mind that you’re in my room. I don’t mind that I have to find you new dresses everyday. I don’t mind that I have to see you after every one of my shifts or that sometimes I don’t even take a proper rest because I’m thinking about you.” 

Winnie didn’t seem to understand. She stared back at him with innocent, naive eyes; eyes that couldn’t quite comprehend the grown up emotion he was trying to express. 

“Harry,” she said, her voice shaky. “You’re confusing me.”

Even though she didn’t know what he was talking about, she felt the same pit in her stomach, the same knot in her throat. Her hands trembled on the bed, her shoulders remained stiff. 

“Just…stay still, okay? Let me know if you want me to stop.” 

Winnie did as she was told, glueing herself to the spot. Harry leaned closer, pressing his lips to her cheek. It was soft, experimental, even, as if he was calming a startled horse. Winnie’s eyes stared ahead. She didn’t know how to react. 

Not protesting made him continue. He moved to the corner of her lip, pressing one kiss to the right and one kiss to the left. Winnie took in quick breaths through her nose. Her hands tightened around the bedsheets. 

He pressed a chaste kiss to her lips, pulling away to see her reaction. Her eyes were wide. She leaned way just the tiniest bit, but it was enough for him. 

Harry stopped, taking in a shaky breath. He lowered his head so that Winnie couldn’t see his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he said, his tone quiet. 

He began to stand and it was as if he was about to cross some vast ocean or desert. He was going to be so, so far away. 

Winnie panicked. She wouldn’t be able to touch him or feel how his hand fit hers or have him run his hands through her hair or-  
She grabbed his wrist and pulled him back, back across the ocean and back into the room with her. Her lips crashed against his and suddenly it was as if they had gone back in time. 

Feverently Harry took hold of her, pushing her down on her back and leaning over. His lips met hers again, his hand resting on her neck as his thumb ran along her jaw. Their foreheads were together, their eyes were closed. 

The distant laughing and conversing of passengers was drowned out as Harry’s tongue delved deep into her mouth. He took her in as if he needed her to keep his heart beating. 

It was a slow kiss, much slower than their first time. Their legs intertwined at the end of the bed, tangling with the blankets and sheets. 

Harry pulled away for the second time, searching her eyes. Winnie met him with the same yearning. He laughed, his eyes crinkling. Winnie mirrored his excitement. 

He kissed her nose and then both her cheeks, her chin, her forehead, her mouth, the corners of her lips. He convinced himself he wouldn’t stop until every inch of her face had been covered thoroughly. 

Winnie reciprocated, capturing his lips once more and pressing against him. It was like the bed had dropped away and they were simply floating in nothingness. Nothing mattered, not the voices on deck or the food sitting on the nightstand; not the captain in his cabin or the 3rd class passengers below. 

God, if only a kiss could last a millennium. Winnie felt as if she could continue on for an eternity, her lips against his. It felt so right, there on the bed, her arms on his chest. 

It felt even more right when Harry broke away, pressing kisses along her jaw and throat. Her back arched against the bed as it had the wall. This time she did not protest. 

They didn’t bother to think of where any of this would take them, but they both knew very well now that the thought of being married didn’t bother them anymore.


	6. Of Love and Affection

Sunday night, around 6 p.m., April 14th aboard the RMS Titanic

The alarm clock rang at precisely eight at night, sending Harry and Winnie falling off of their respected sleeping areas; Harry off the couch and Winnie off the bed. They burt into a chorus of laughter. 

“So this is what it feels like to be an officer,” Winnie said as she stood up and stretched. Harry snorted. “I should like to break that alarm clock. It has been the bane of my existence for three days now.” 

He set to getting dressed and Winnie stretched out on the bed. As he finished he leaned over her and pressed a long to her lips. “Will I see you during my rounds?” he asked, his forehead pressed to hers.

He began to pull away but Winnie wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him back in for another long kiss. 

Of course,” she murmured through a grin. 

Harry looked torn as he finally parted, lingering at the door with a smile. “You have to come soon. I’ll be at the main deck.” 

He gave her one last, long look before he slipped out. 

Winnie rolled over, squealing into her pillow with the energy of a little girl. She could feel her cheeks blooming like a flower, her pulse hammering in her chest. The last few hours from morning till now had been a blur of affection. It was as if all the feelings they had been harbouring for the last three days came pouring out. 

At first she had been skeptical, even when both of their feelings were confessed. It was such a short time to fall in love with someone…if love was what she truly felt. 

Winnie groaned into her pillow, her hand squeezing at the fabric over her chest. What even was love?

As if pulled back into a dream, Winnie found herself sitting in front of a young woman, fair of skin and hair. She was wearing nothing but cloth stockings, undergarments and a loose corset. She held a cigarette in her left hand and was petting Winnie’s head with her right. 

“I wish I had hair like your,” she was saying. She put out the cigarette and grabbed a brush. Winnie sat still as she proceeded. 

“If I had your hair, I would spend all day just combing it and braiding it.” She laughed. “But instead I get to play with yours.”

Winnie furrowed her eyebrows as pulled her knees up to her chest. “You don’t need no hair like mine,” she said. “So many boys love you already. What’s the use in having hair like mine; nobody loves me like they do you.”

She put her head down, pressing her lips together. 

The woman stopped brushing, leaning over to look Winnie in the face. She tilted her chin with her pointer finger. “Oh, that’s all bull shit.” She tapped her nose and pulled back, resuming brushing her hair. 

“Those boys don’t love me, Winnie. They’re controlled by adult urges. My job is to tempt them with those urges, which is how I can live comfortably. But you, honey, you wouldn’t do the kinds of the things I do because you’re a good girl.”

“But they’re always kissing you and hugging you,” Winnie protested. She crossed her arms. “I wish a boy would do that stuff with me.”

The women tapped Winnie’s head playfully. “Kissing and hugging and all those things don’t mean nothing if a boy doesn’t love you.”

“How am I supposed to know if he loves me?” Winnie demanded. “If it’s not because he kisses me, how am I supposed to tell?” 

The woman sighed, her brushing slowing down as she looked out into space. “If a man really loves you…he would do anything for you, even if it could bring trouble to himself. But you’ve got to love him back just as much.”

“But how do I know I’m in love?” 

All these questions were driving Winnie mad. 

“Well,” the woman started, “you’ll feel it right in here.” She pointed to her chest. “When he’s not around your heart’ll be real slow, calm and all that. But when he’s around, hell, it’ll beat so fast you won’t know how to ever calm down. When you kiss him you’ll feel like you could stay that way forever. When he’s gone you’ll always think about him and your heart will hurt and he should feel the same. When he touches you your skin’ll tingle.”

Winnie started up at her in a childlike contentment. The woman was quite for awhile, staring out into the distant. She looked down at WInnie and smiled. “You’ll know love when you feel it; and when you do, don’t you ever let it go.”

Winnie blinked and she was back in her own room. She heard the groaning of the ship, the distant melody of the band and the chattering of the passengers. She breathed it all in. She felt at peace. She felt calm. She felt…

Like she was missing something. 

Again her hand went over her heart. “When he’s gone your hurt will hurt.” 

Winnie let out a breath. 

She felt it. 

Love

“Oh my God,” she murmured. “I’m in love.”

Now that she said it out loud it felt more real. 

“I’m in love,” she repeated. 

She jumped up from the bed, ignoring the dizzy feeling she felt. 

“I’m in love!” 

She put her hand over her forehead. 

“I’m in love!” She shouted that time. 

“I’m in love and-” She cut herself off. “And I’ve got to go meet him on deck.” 

She rushed around the room like a madwoman, doing her best to lace her dress and buckle her shoes, throwing together her infamous messy braid and pinching her cheeks till they throbbed. 

She raced out the door and through the hallway that lead to all the officer’s quarters. She burt onto the deck in a flurry of cloth and hair, scanning the deck until she saw him. He was standing near the rail, looking out into the sea. 

“Harry!” she called. 

He looked up and his eyes lit up. He stood a bit straighter and waited for her to come over. She did, all too fast, slamming into him with force. 

He let out a strangled laugh as she snaked her arms around him. “Well gee, it’s only been twenty minutes.” 

Nonetheless he put his arms around her, resting his chin on her messy head of hair. Her face was nuzzled into his chest so that her voice came out muffled. 

“I know,” she said. “It was too long.”

“Too long?” he echoed. He nodded with a soft smile. “Yes, I suppose you’re right. All too long.” 

“Harry,” she said again. She pulled away, her hands intertwining with his. “Harry, what happens after we get to New York?”

He furrowed his eyebrows. “New York?” 

She nodded. 

“Well…I guess you’d come back with me if you wanted. I should like to have you with me now.” 

“Why?” Winnie asked. She searched his eyes for the look she had been dreaming about her whole life. “Why do you want me with you, Harry?”

He spluttered for a moment. “Because I…” He stopped himself, searching her eyes as well. “I feel very deeply for you. And I hope you feel the same.” 

Winnie was not satisfied. “But do you feel it for me?”

“What’s it?” he said. 

He knew very well what it was but he was scared. 

“You know,” WInnie said. She moved his hand to her heart. “Do you feel it?” 

He nodded. 

“It’s beating so fast,” she said. “It’s never beaten this fast ever. Not for anybody. Not for my mum of my dad or the boys at the pub or the girls in the alleys. Not officers or policemen, sailors or crooks.” She pressed his hand harder to her chest. “Harry, I’ve never felt this way for anybody before.”

He was mesmerized. He felt her heartbeat and listened to his own. They were the same. 

“Winnie,” he said. “I’m in love with you.” 

Winnie beamed. “I love you too.” 

She pressed a long kiss to his lips, basking in his warmth and scent. This new feeling she had discovered was addicting. She felt as if she pulled away she would die. She decided, then and there, that never would she let this man go. 

It was only a few minutes they got to themselves before Harry had to continue his duties. Winnie considered staying on the deck and waiting for him him make his way back to her, but a disapproving glance from Officer Pitman who passed her on the way to the main deck. 

With a final goodbye to Harry, Winnie made her way back to her room where she sat in quiet discomfort reading the rest of Oliver Twist. She entertained the thought of her eyes falling out the longer she stared at the pages. 

It would be quite a long night.

But she was comforted by the thought of Harry coming back into the room and whispering her to sleep.


	7. A Blip of Warmth

Sunday night, around 8 p.m., April 14th aboard the RMS Titanic

The door creaked open at the end of Harry’s shift, shaking Winnie from her sleep. She gazed up at Harry as she laid sprawled out on the couch, her arms and legs going in every direction. She gave him a wide grin as she sat up. 

“Hello!”

Harry’s eyes crinkled as he sat down next to her. “You fell asleep without me,” he chided, though he wasn’t serious. 

Winnie had been trying to keep on his shift schedule ever since Saturday and he could see how tired she had been getting. 

“We can go back to sleep,” Winnie suggested with a yawn. She took Harry’s hand and snuggled into his chest. He laughed, tapping her nose playfully. 

“Come now, Winnie. I have to take off these clothes.” 

He stood back up to shimmy off his pants and shirt to put on his night garments; plain wool pajamas. 

Winnie didn’t bother to look away, nor look either. She was so tired it felt like she could die that moment. 

After Harry was done he ushered Winnie over to the bed. “You take the bed, Winnie.” He smiled as he shuffled over to the couch, wrapping up in the spare quilt. 

“Oh, but Harry,” Winnie started. 

Harry waved his hand in dismissal. “Hush, Winnie. Complain tomorrow.” He cracked open one eye and grinned at her. Winnie rolled her eyes in exasperation, slumping into the bed and staring up at the ceiling. 

Three minutes went by and she glanced over at the clock; 8:15. 

She didn’t hear him snoring, which he tended to do; albeit quietly. 

“Harry,” she whispered. 

“Yes?” he answered back immediately. 

Both stifled quiet giggles. 

“Harry, it’s very cold.”

There was a momentary silence. 

“Winnie-”  
“Oh, Harry, I’m freezing. My toes are so cold I think they’ll fall off!” Though he couldn’t see, she threw a hand over her head dramatically. 

“Winnie, we’re not married yet,” Harry protested. He pressed his lips together in frustration. 

“Sure we are!” Winnie answered. “At least everybody thinks we are. All I need is a ring.” 

Harry squeezed his eyes shut to silence a laugh. 

“Winnie,” he struggled out. “We can’t.” 

“Harry,” she said in the same tone, “I’m dying of cold. It’s so cold in the ocean, on this ship. Your blankets aren’t warm. This night shirt is thin. I’ll die of hypothermia and then you really can’t marry me!” 

She waited for his response with a smirk hidden in the dark. 

Harry groaned, getting up from the couch and sitting down on the bed. 

“This is wrong, you know.” 

He didn't sound convinced. 

“Poppycock.” 

The only thing really visible in the dark was Winnie’s teeth as she grinned like a cheshire. Harry sighed as he adjusted himself in bed, doing his best to not overstep any boundaries. Winnie, on the other hand, threw an arm around him, snuggling into the crook of his neck. 

“Winnie.” 

“Hush now, Harry, it’s warmer this way.”


	8. The Sinking

Sunday night, approximately 11:45 p.m., April 14th aboard the RMS Titanic

A slight bump woke Winnei from a light sleep. She was beginning to get tired of being woken up in the middle of the night. 

She tried to sit up but was stopped by an arm circled around her waist. She squinted over at Harry who was fast asleep beside her in peaceful content. She laughed as she shimmied her way out of his arms; it was better to let him sleep. 

She stood up and stretched, looking at the clock. It was 11:46 now. She was already awake so it was no use trying to go back to sleep. She decided she might as well do something to keep her busy until the morning, or at least until Harry woke up. 

She put on a spare pair of Harry’s pajamas and a long robe. She hoped not many people were out; she could stand looking unacceptable if she was by herself but not if it could affect Harry’s reputation as well.

She brought along Oliver Twist, though unsure if she could read it without a lamp of some kind, and slipped out of the room. She walked forward and came upon the entrance to the wheel house, where she observed closely.

The Captain and who she assumed to be one of the senior officers were speaking together, their backs to her. She refrained from going closer in fear of someone seeing her, and yet. 

“Can I help you with anything?” a voice said from behind her. 

Winnie whipped around to be faced with a fairly tall man with dark hair and grey eyes. He looked down at her with an eyebrow raised but his eyes were friendly. Winnie decided he would’ve been intimidating if not for the fact that he only had his nighties on. 

“Oh!” Winnie said. She found it hard to think of a lie when she was looking someone in the eye. “I was just looking for…a ladies room. I wasn’t sure if I was allowed to go in the officer’s bathroom since…you’re all men.”

The man nodded, not seeming to be all the way convinced though. “But you shouldn’t be in the officer’s quarters at all,” he said, giving her a mixed look. “Who exactly are you?” 

“I’m Winifred…Lowe. Harold’s wife,” Winnie answered, hoping that the name drop could get her out of the conversation. 

The man’s eyes widened in recognition. “Oh! Harold’s wife! Of course.” He became aware that he was in his nighties and smiled lamely. “You’re free to use the officer’s bathroom, but if you do feel uncomfortable, I can call a steward to escort you to the 1st class lavatories.”

Winnie, seeing he would no longer be a problem, smiled back. “Oh, it’s fine. I was just wondering about that bump I felt. It wasn’t much but this is a boat. Is it something to worry about?”

“Probably nothing, sir,” a voice piped up. Another man, a bit shorter with darker hair and eyes, walked up to them, giving a respectful nod to the man and Winnie. “I’m Officer Pitman,” he said, shaking Winnie’s hand. “And you’re likely Mrs. Lowe. Nice to finally meet you. I’ve been meaning to ask Harold about you but we’re not on shift together.” 

“And I’m Second Officer Lightroller,” the other man added, also shaking Winnie’s hand. 

“Nice to meet you both,” Winnie said. She glanced back to the bridge where the captain and officer were still talking. “Are we sure it’s nothing?”

“Yes, it’s probably just ice,” Lightroller answered. He gave her a smile. “It’s late, Mrs. Lowe. You should head back to bed.” 

Winnie nodded, giving one last wave before heading back to her room. Harry was still fast asleep as she opened the door, slipping in and trying to find her way around in the dark. Although she believed the impact was probably nothing much, she couldn’t help but remember the ship from 1906; a merchant vessel headed to Russia. 

She had stowed away in a barrel in hopes of making it out of Scotland, but the very next day the boat had sunk. Luckily they weren’t too far off shore and Winnie was able to escape partially unharmed. 

She knew that couldn’t happen with Titanic; it was a stronger, sturdier ship than the merchant ship, but she couldn’t help but to feel nervous. 

She let out a shaky sigh, tiptoeing over to wear she kept her clothes. She didn’t have many, since they all came from dresses Harry had found in storage. They were backups just in case something happened to someone’s dress. Nothing ever did. 

This outfit however, was different from others Harry had brought her. She had thought, at first, that it was a skirt; albeit oddly shaped. She was surprised to find that they were pants, of some sort, very large and baggy pants, when she had put both of her legs in the same pant hole .

She chuckled to herself as she readjusted, slipping on the pants correctly and shimmying into the shirt connected to it. It was more comfortable than the tight corset dresses she had been forcing herself in to. 

She glanced at the clock to find it was only a quarter after twelve and she was wide awake. A range of voices broke out from far off but because of the sheer magnitude of people that had began filing out onto the deck it reached into the room. 

Harry began to stir. Winnie glanced out the window and saw many passengers began filing out from inside, dressed in lifejackets. 

Her heart began to pound. 

Something was wrong. 

“Winnie,” Harry called. She turned to find that he had sat up and was beginning to throw off the blankets. “Winnie, what’s going on? What’s wrong?” 

“I don’t know,” Winnie answered. She bit her lip harshly. “Everyone’s wearing lifebelts.” 

Harry’s eyes widened and all at once he was very awake. He shot up, dressing as quick as he could. Winnie assisted in anyway she could but she wasn’t much use. 

“I’ve got to go on deck,” he said. “Put on a lifebelt and meet me up there.” He pressed a chaste kiss to her forehead before running out of the room. Winnie stood in shock for a moment. Her breath quickened as she heard people speaking outside. 

“What’s happened?” the voice of a woman asked. She assumed it was a steward. “She’s hit an iceberg,” another voice answered back; it sounded familiar. “I’m afraid she hasn’t got a chance.” 

An audible gasp came from the woman before their voices faded further down the hall. Winnie swallowed. If the ship was sinking…that meant she had to get the hell off. 

Steeling her shoulders and grabbing the newsboy cap she had had on when she first boarded, Winnie marched out the door and onto the deck. It was surprisingly orderly considering the circumstances, but she assumed most people didn’t realize the magnitude of the situation. 

“Women and children!” the strong voice of Officer Lightroller shouted as he stood near the first lifeboat. It had been uncovered and was now housing five annoyed ladies. “Will we be back for breakfast?” a middle aged woman sporting a large hat asked. 

The officer shrugged. “I do as I’m told; and right now they’re telling me to load the passengers.” 

The woman sighed in exasperation, waving her hand as she maneuvered her way into the boat through her many layers of skirt. Winnie ran up to him and tugged on his shoulder. He turned and raised his eyebrows. 

“Mrs. Lowe! You should get on the boat. I’m sure Harold will be along sometime after he helps.” 

Winnie didn’t understand why he was being so casual. “Officer Lightroller,” she began, her eyes wide, “Don’t you know what’s happened?” 

Lightroller shrugged again. “I was given an order to get passengers ready on deck because of the bump; just safety precautions I assume. Until we find out what’s happened.” 

Winnie shook her head, her mouth open in disbelief. “No! The Captain’s already found out what’s happened.” She looked around for fear of spooking the passengers, grabbing hold of his tie and pulling him closer. “The ship hit an iceberg!” she whispered through clenched teeth. “She’ll sink soon.” 

Lightroller’s eyes widened. He pulled away, squinting at her. “That can’t be!” he snapped. “This ship can’t be sunk.” 

Winnie shook her head again, regarding him with pitying eyes. “Nothing’s unsinkable. So you’ve got to get these passengers into the boats and fast. It’s urgent!” 

Lightroller looked conflicted for a moment. He backed away, shaking his head. “It’s impossible!” he muttered. 

“Go ask the captain!” Winnie said, pointing to the bridge where the captain was overlooking. “But be quick!” 

Lightroller all but sprinted over to the captain. Winnie didn’t hear their conversation but judging from the look he had when he came back, the captain had told him the truth. 

Stopping next to her, Lightroller was quiet for a moment. He took in a shaky breath, then exhaled. Winnie watched in anticipation. 

“Ok,” he said. He cleared his throat, nodding to Winnie as he stepped forward. “Hey!” he shouted to the crewmen assisting women on the boat. “It’s 65 per boat! I had better see every one of these boats filled to capacity! Spread that order! And do it quick” 

The crewmen looked confused but nodded, ushering the women and children in at a quicker rate. 

Lightroller gave Winnie a strained smile. “You had better get on one before it gets harder.” 

Winnie hummed in agreement, turning to leave. 

“And Winnie,” he called. She looked back over her shoulder. 

“Thank you.” 

Winnie grinned, waving her hand. “Good luck, Officer.” 

She jogged off, thanking the stars she had worn pants instead of one of those tight dresses. It was around 12: 40 and she came upon the starboard side of the ship where the first lifeboat was beginning to be lowered. 

“Wait!” a crewman shouted. He jogged up to the officer who gave him an exasperated look. “What?” 

“Officer Lightroller’s sent out an order,” the crewman answered. “All boats are to be filled to absolute capacity; 65 per boat.”

The officer furrowed his eyebrows. “What’s he on about? That’s too risky for a drill. Do you know how dangerous that could be if someone stands up?”  
The crewman leaned in, his eyes wide. “I heard the captain talking to some of the watchmen. That iceberg really did her in. I think we’re sinking.”  
The officer mirrored his expression. “You mean…?”  
The crewman nodded. 

The officer coughed, just as Lightroller had, turning to the people about to lower the boat. “You heard him, lads. Maximum capacity. Not a person less or a person more. And be careful getting her down.” 

Winnie headed off again, this time in search of Harry. It was around 11:50 now and people were becoming a bit more antsy.

“Has something happened?” a small child asked her father as they waited in line to get on the lifeboats. “I don’t know,” the father answered. 

“Women and children!” an officer called. 

The sounds had begun to morphe together. Winnie felt overwhelmed. 

“Fill it to capacity!”  
“What about my husband!” 

“What’s happened?”

“What about my luggage!” 

“This is preposterous!”  
“Women and children!”  
“Lower away!” 

“Look at that; the ship’s tilting!”  
A scream. 

“Dear God, what’s happening?”  
“Harry,” Winnie called in an uneven voice. 

“We’re going to die!”  
“You have to let my husband on too!” 

“Stay back!” 

“Lower away! Lower away! Lower away! Lower away!”  
Winnie recognized him as Mr. Ismay. She detested that man. 

"If you will get to hell out of that I shall be able to do something."

She recognized that voice as well. 

“Harry!” she shouted in a strangled voice. It seemed as though everything fell away. Her breath was quickening, her heart as well. She couldn’t stop bumping into people, couldn’t hear over the shouts. 

There was no reply from Mr. Ismay. 

“Do you want me to lower away quickly?” Harry demanded to Mr. Ismay, not noticing Winnie in the crowd. “You will have me drown the whole lot of them.” 

He was referring to the lifeboat filled almost to capacity, which in that boat was who Winnie assumed to be Officer Boxhall. 

Mr. Ismay grumbled to himself as he left to another boat. The other lifeboat was lowered into the sea. Seeing that it was safe out of the air, Harry turned away. He spotted Winnie who was leaned up against a capstan, a hand holding her forehead. 

He rushed over to her, taking her by the shoulders. “Winnie!” 

She cracked open her eyes and gasped. “Harry!” 

She too took his shoulders, staring up at him. “Harry, the ship’s sinking!”  
“I know,” he answered. “You have to get out of here! You have to get on to a lifeboat!” 

He pressed his forehead to hers, staring into her eyes like he had done the night before. 

“Not without you,” she answered. 

It was cold and the people were shouting; the sound of the band played in the distance to the hymn of Nearer My God to Thee. 

“You have to go!” Harry insisted. Winnie shook her head desperately, tears forming in her eyes. “I can’t leave!” she said. “I can’t leave you here. You have to get on with me.” 

“Get back!” a voice shouted. “Get back you lot!”

A group of crewmen was attempting to push back a group of steerage passengers who had made their way up to the boat deck. 

“Winnie-”

He was cut off as head shot up towards the group. “Fred?” she called. “Leonard?” 

The two men were standing in the crowd along with the man she had met from Totnes. She saw a lot of faces she recognized; from England. 

“Hey!” 

She broke away from Harry and stormed towards the crewmembers. “Why can’t they get on?” 

“It’s women and children only!” one of the seamen snapped. “Captain’s orders!” 

“Captain’s orders my left arse cheek!” Leonard shouted. “We’ve got a right to live just as much as anyone else!”

“Once all the women and children are on board, then we’ll start loading the men,” another crewmember answered. 

“The ship’ll be sunk by then!” Fred cried. “Give us a chance!” 

“Do you think we want to do this!” yet another man yelled. “They’ve got us keeping you lot at bay, and what’s to happen once all the lifeboats are taken by everyone else, what’s to happen to us? We’ll be the last to die on the damn ship!” 

“That is enough, seamen!” Harry shouted from Winnie’s side. All eyes turned to him. “Are we not trying to save everyone in an orderly manner?” 

When there was no response he continued. 

“By God! All of us are men! Don’t run around and be frightened like children! It’s our duty as men to help the women and children! So be men! And do what is right!” 

Though reluctant, the men subsided in their fight. They stood in silence, glancing at each other. 

“Fred, Leonard,” Winnie said. 

Their eyes lit up in recognition. 

“Winnie,” Fred whispered. 

The two of them pushed their way to the front. Harry stood antsily by her side. “Winnie, you have to get off the boat,” he said through clenched teeth. 

“Not without you,” Winnie snapped. “And not without them.”

Harry let out a long sigh. “Captain’s order are-” 

“Officer Lowe!” another man came to run up alongside of him. “There’s trouble at 14 and 16!” 

Harry groaned; he did a lot of groaning this night. He glanced at Leonard and Fred. “Can you row? Can you two row?” 

They both nodded. 

“My father taught me to row when-” Fred was cut off. 

“I don’t care!” Harry snapped. “You want to live? Then come with me.” 

Both didn’t mind his tone; they followed him as he ran to the lifeboats, meeting Officer Moody at no.14. There was a crowd of people, mostly immigrants, shoving and shoutin in different languages. Moody and some other crewmen were trying to keep them at bay. 

Harry joined the fray, pushing back as well. “How many boats have you set out, Lowe?” Moody asked in a strained voice. Even though it was cold sweat still strained his brow and neck. 

“I’ve seen five go away,” Harry answered. He ushered Winnie towards the boat. “Get in, Winnie. And you two!” He called to Fred and Leonard who had been standing back in fear of retribution. “Get in as well. You’ll row with me.” 

“Get back!” Moody was yelling the whole time. 

“An officer should go in one of these boats,” Harry mentioned, seeing that Winnie had made her way into the boat. It was nearly full with all women save for Fred, Leonard and a few seamen. 

“Who will it be, Officer Moody? You or me?” 

“You go; I will get in another boat,” Moody answered. 

Without another word Harry stepped to the head of the boat. The crowd has subsided a bit more. 

“Lower away!” Moody shouted.The boat began to lower. A boy scrambled in right as the first rope jostled. 

Winnie made a split decision, knowing he would be thrown out the minute Harry realized he had made his way in. She ushered him in under her, hushing the women who had witnessed the ordeal. 

“You had better be quiet or we’ll both be in trouble,” Winnie mumbled to him. 

“He’s probably cold,” a young woman beside her whispered. “Here; take this.” She passed a thin shawl made out of what looked to be wool.

Winnie nodded gratefully, slipping it to the boy. Both women scooted closer together to hide the boy ore

Everyone was quiet.

As the boat was lowered past B deck, they came upon a large group of passengers. It was eerily silent as the boat started to pass. The men, seemingly foreign, watched the boat with desperate eyes. 

Winnie maintained eye contact with them. She felt an awful pain in her stomach as if a knife had been plunged. She bit her lip, her grip tightening on her pants to stop herself from reaching out. 

“Look out!” Harry shouted. Winnie was snapped from within herself. She stifled a cry as a shot was fired. She didn’t see where it went, or whom it may have hit. She heard the frightened shouts of people from all over the ship. 

They passed the B and C deck when the last of three shots was fired. The men backed away from the rail. It was silent again. 

Harry sat down next to Winnie, taking her hand and rubbing it in between his. She remained stiff, feeling the boy shaking under her. She prayed Harry wouldn’t notice. She hated to lie but it was her nature. 

One of the ropes on the aft side stopped lowering while the bow continued. The stern began to dangle, sending the women in the boat into a panic. Shouts were heard from the top of the ship and then a snap. 

The boat went plummeting down to the water, which, thankfully, was only three or four feet away from the surface. 

There was a splash and a crack, but they had made it. Harry stood back up. “Okay men, this is what you’re here for. Row!”  
Leonard and Fred and the few other men that had been allowed to come along picked up the oars and started to row. Harry took hold of one as well. 

“There’s a leak!” a woman near the rear of the boat said. There were more frightened cries. 

“Handle it!” Harry shouted, unable to do anything but row. 

“Put your clothes over it to stop the flow!” Winnie suggested. 

Water began to seep in, covering most of the floor. 

The women did as they were told and the water subsided. Harry stood at the front of the boat droaning on and on, beat after beat, “Row, row!” Winnie knew it was necessary but it was awful the more she heard it. 

It was cold, deathly cold, in the middle of the Atlantic. It seemed as if the icebergs had all come together and were blowing their ice onto them. She was shivering despite the coat she had gotten from her room earlier. She could feel the boy under her shivering too. She wished she could help but knew the trouble she would be in if he knew she had stowed him away. 

Although no one else was talking it seemed that the air was filled with noise. The boat’s sound still echoed in the night, piercing the ocean’s mute favour. Winnie had her back to the ship but she still flinched every time she heard a scream. 

When she was still on board everything had been orderly and quiet; but now screams rang from on board. A few crackling explosions mixed in. She could only imagine what it was like. 

It was times like these she was thankful she hadn’t just stayed in steerage. What if she had; hid with the animals until tonight, no one knowing she existed. The gates would have been locked…she would have been trapped. One of the first to die. 

More screams. 

They were about a hundred and fifty yards away from the ship by the time Harry ordered the men to stop rowing. 

It was still not truly silent. 

Winnie finally turned around and what she saw made her gasp. The ship was just splitting in half, the stern high in the air and the bow completely submerged. It groaned a deep, heavy moan. There were more screams as the lights flickered out. It was dark. 

Winnie’s eyes adjusted slowly but she didn’t have time before a crash was heard. She felt the ripple from where she was. 

When she was finally able to see, the boat was gone. The sea seemed empty. 

It was not silent. 

The screams of people in the water seemed to reach out and pull Winnie in. She was drowning in the far away sounds. She was useless in the ocean. She was useless on the boat. She was useless. 

“We ought to go back,” Fred piped up. It was the first thing he had said since he left the ship. 

“No,” Harry answered in a firm voice. “Do you know how many people are in the water right now?” He shook his head sadly. “We’d be swamped and then we’d all drown. It’s better to wait awhile; if anyone makes it out this far we’ll be sure to pick them up.” 

Winnie didn’t have the heart to argue. She had always credited herself for being exceptionally strong but tonight all of her energy, her spark, her attitude; they had all been washed away. She felt hollow. 

There was a whistle close by from another lifeboat. 

“We had better meet up with some of the others,” Harry answered. He turned back to the men. “Ready about!” 

The boat was turned in the direction of the incoming lifeboats. And “Rowe!” 

It was only a few minutes before they met. The rowing stopped with a final “Way enough!” 

Harry stepped forward and squinted in the dark. “Who’s commanding?” he demanded. 

“Quartermaster Walter Perkins in Lifeboat 4, sir,” the first said. 

“Seaman Edward Buley in Lifeboat 10, sir,” the second said. 

“Seaman John Poingdestre in Lifeboat 12, sir,” the third said. 

“Quartermaster Arthur Bright in Collapsible D, sir,” the fourth said. 

Once they were all accounted for Harry turned back to his passengers. “Alright, I want all the women and anyone who’s injured out of this boat and into the others!” he ordered. 

“You had better go,” she whispered to the boy beneath her. As people began to get up, he stood up with the woman who offered him her shawl. “Put it over your head,” she said. “And keep your head down. Don’t you make eye contact or who knows what might happen.” 

It wasn’t until Winnie saw them both safely to the other boat that another man was caught. The cloth over another man’s head was ripped off as he tried to sneak in. Harry glowered at the man as he held the shawl in his hands. “How dare you!” he snapped. “Get in!” 

He hurled the man into the boat. Winnie was glad it wasn’t the same for the other boy. 

Everyone was transferred but Winnie stayed in the boat. Harry turned to her, holding out a hand. “You have to go too,” he said, his tone softer than with the others. 

Winnie shook her head. “Harry, I can help. I know how to row and swim, if need be. Let me go with you!”

They stared into each other’s eyes for what felt like an eternity. She was stubborn, but she didn’t know if he was more. 

In the end, it was her to look away.  
“Winnie,” he said, sitting beside her, not minding the people watching them. “It’s dangerous back there, and if anything ever happened to you, I…I don’t know what I would do. If you stayed back here, where it’s safe, you could take care of the women here. These sailors don’t have as soft a touch as you do.”

Winnie sighed, nodding. She knew it was his job and one thing she promised herself, even when romantic feelings weren’t involved, was that she would never interfere. The ship had sunk, people were drowning and freezing. She was a stowaway and had taken up an additional seat in the boat; one a paying passenger could have had. 

Perhaps if she wasn’t there, another person could have lived. So it was better not to jeopardize anymore lives. 

She stood up, steadying herself without any help. “Okay,” she said, her eyes lowered. She stepped over to the other boat, sitting beside the boy she had snuck in. Harry watched her the whole way. 

The screaming had quieted down a bit, making it safer to go back. Lifeboat 14 pushed away and began to row back to the remnants of Titanic. 

“Winnie!” Harry called as she began to turn away. She looked back. 

He put a hand over his heart and smiled. She did the same. 

I love you. 

They were gone into the night with only the echoes of “Row” to let others know they were there. Winnie watched until she couldn’t see any farther. 

The people onboard were silent. They couldn’t help but listen to the thinning cries of drowning people. It was unreal; fictional even. Death was a part of life but to be surrounded by so much of it was…

Winnie tried to slow her breathing. She scrunched the fabric of her pants into fists until she thought her knuckles might shatter from pressure. 

A hand found hers in the dark boat. She looked over to see the boy she had saved. He gave her a small smile, squeezing her hand. “My mum used to tell me angels were prettiest at night,” he whispered. “I think all those people are hurting now, but they’ll get a beautiful sight once it stops.” 

Winnie managed a laugh. “I like that,” she said. She gave the boy’s hand a squeeze in return. “I like that a lot.” 

The boats rowed together as they heard a faint whistle in the distance. It seemed to be not far off but it would take a few minutes to get there. With the combined help of the few crewmembers aboard they made their way to the whistle. 

A boat drifted capsized with a number of men clinging on to it. On top was a man Winnie knew by name. 

“It’s Officer Lightroller,” the seaman at the front of the boat muttered in disbelief. 

They rowed closer with the encouragement of the seaman, and were soon dragging about twenty five people aboard, distributing them between boats 4 and 12. The rescued passengers were shivering so hard Winnie feared they might die. 

“Here,” she said to one of the disheveled looking men, handing him the coat she had kept on since she left her room. The man nodded in thanks, bundling himself up in it as soon as he grasped it. 

“How long have you been out here, sir?” the seaman asked Lightroller, who had been given someone else’s spare shawl. “Awhile,” he answered. “Since before she went up. We couldn’t get her back up the right way so we had to make due. We did what we could.”

He seemed unwilling to converse but Winnie understood. The passengers made room for him to sit and rest for awhile. Meanwhile, the two boats rowed towards an incoming light, assumed to be a ship. 

Flares were sent up from multiple locations. Winnie’s ears ached from the cold ocean air. The chill of the newly rescued mens’ bodies seemed to radiate onto her until she too started to shiver. 

She couldn’t help but to think of Harry; how he was doing, if he had found many people. She knew they waited too long. Even though it was a precaution she felt terrible thinking they had robbed people of their lives. 

She breathed in and then out. 

“Look up at the sky and see the world around,” a far off voice whispered into her ear. It was the voice of her mother. 

She looked up into the night, at the clear stars above her. They were specks; dots even. Like little milk drops in the vast sky. 

She breathed in and out again. 

“In my arms, rest complete. I never thought that life could ever be so sweet, till I met you some time ago, but now you know I love you.” 

She hummed it quietly, still gazing up at the stars. She imagined Harry next to her, embracing her like he had the night before. She imagined him whispering into her ear, about their future, about what would happen once they docked in New York. He spoke about the little house he had spotted when he was sailing, of the stone cottage on the cliffs. He whispered of how much he loved her, how glad he was to have found her. 

The ocean didn’t feel too cold anymore. 

It was still dark but the sky had turned a different shade of black that cast the smallest amount of light over the ocean. Winnie guessed it was around four or five in the morning, based on how long they had been drifting. She knew for a fact it had been almost twelve when the ship hit the iceberg. 

The light on the horizon had come closer to reveal a large ship headed their way. A flare was sent up as the ship came close to the wreckage. Winnie squinted to see lifeboats headed to the ship. Theirs and number four seemed to be the farthest from the ship. 

Officer Lightroller, who had regained himself, sat at the front of the boat to direct its direction. He pointed towards the ship. “Alright, men! There’s your target! If you want to get out of this damned ocean, you had better rowe with all you can muster!” 

A series of agreeing noises swept through the passengers. 

“Now row!”

The far off ship served as a sign of hope and a joint effort resonated throughout all people on board. Everyone pitched in as much as they could to help move the boat faster. It was excruciatingly painful watching the boats be plucked from the water and passengers brought up while they stayed in the boat. 

For a moment Winnie entertained the idea of them being the only ones not rescued; that the boat would sail off without ever seeing them. 

But lifeboat 12 reached the ship sometime near eight in the morning. It was a gruelling boarding; most passengers had to climb up ladders to get in. That was hard for some whose feet were numb from the freezing ocean. 

Winnie was one of the last to board after seeing the boy she had harbored was safely up the ladder. She started up with a shaky step. Officer Lightroller held the ladder below, to which she was thankful for, but every step felt as if her leg was going to fall off. 

She shook with each movement. Her muscles were weak, her head light. But she knew what she felt was nothing compared to others; men who had been lifted in slings because their legs were so frostbitten they could crack. 

It seemed like forever but she finally made it. The crew of the ship grabbed her by the arms and pulled her onto deck. Her knees buckled underneath her and she nearly collapsed but a strong arm circled around her. 

Winnie looked up to see Harry’s worried face staring down at hers. He was saying something but she couldn’t seem to hear him. It all seemed a mix of cries and shouts. It morphed together in a deafening chorus of misery. 

She looked around, seeing the passengers huddling together or standing alone, desperately searching for their loved ones. She saw mothers collapse when they didn’t see their children, wifes scream as they didn’t find their husbands. 

She looked back up to Harry, his lips still moving. She reached a tired hand to his cheek. 

And then she cried. The tears came in waves, drowning her as she sobbed. She gasped for air, clinging to Harry’s shirt, her eyes looking over the crowd frantically. It was so small. So small. 

There had been nearly two thousand people on the Titanic. And most of them were gone. 

She cried for them and she cried with them. She cried for all the people who once had life. All the humans who had stories, who had lives that they lived to their full extent. She cried for the hope they had had when they first stepped on, no matter how much money they had. She cried for what they had once been and what they were now; bodies under the sea. 

She cried for their loved ones’s loss; the looks of misery they would have as they realized they hadn’t made it. 

She cried for the loss of hope.

The loss of love.

The loss of dreams.


	9. How to Get Away With Being a Stowaway

Tuesday afternoon, around 1 p.m., April 17th aboard the RMS Carpathia

The Carpathia was cramped; to say the least. The added weight of nearly seven hundred passengers took its toll and two days later it was stifling to stay in. The surviving officers of Titanic had been given small rooms in 3rd class to stay in; most bunked together to make room for other passengers. 

Harry and Winnie were given their own (in a magnanimous show of kindness by the rest of the officers and passengers on board). They were one of the few “married couples” to make it out together. 

They both dealt with the trauma in their own way. Harry had trouble sleeping and would often slip out of bed to go on deck, leaving Winnie alone. He, of course, was under the impression that she was sleeping, but she never did. 

The sound of the ocean was enough to make her sick now. She fought the urge to flinch every time the boat creaked; the boat creaked a lot. 

The circles under their eyes grew darker with each passing day until their interactions with anyone on board and even with each other were short and exhausted. 

Winnie spent most of her time in the room while Harry tried to keep spirits up by talking to passengers on the boat. Even though they didn’t see each other often, the affection they had grown on the boat did not fade. 

It was afternoon, around lunch time, when Harry slipped into their room with a small tray of food. They had decided to start taking food in their room instead of the crowded dining area. 

Winnie sat up, regarding him with tired eyes and a small smile. “Hello, Harry,” she greeted. 

Harry sat next to her, placing the tray in between them. “I brought lunch. It’s not much but…better than starving down here.”

Winnie placed a quick kiss on his cheek. “Thank you.” 

She reached for one of the rolls, which were still warm, clutching it in her hands. It was nice to feel warm things nowadays. 

Harry refrained from eating. He merely watched her. 

“Winnie,” he said after seeing that she had taken a bite. “I’ve been thinking…about New York.”  
She looked up, her brows furrowed.

“It’s going to be more difficult than we thought to get you into America.”

He paused to examine her reaction. She was too tired to give one. 

“You are, technically, a stowaway. Even though you’re my wife on this ship, it’ll be nearly impossible to fool the immigration police in New York.”

Winnie nodded along. “Yeah; I figured that back in South Hampton. I was going to sneak away while we docked. But then I suppose no one would be looking for me. It’s harder now.” 

Harry sighed. “The…sinking of the ship helped us a bit”

They both cringed.  
“In that we can claim your tickets and passenger records were lost. But if they check the passenger manifest we might be in trouble.” 

“And there is no real record of a Winifred Lowe anywhere in the world,” Winnie added. She had abandoned her roll and had begun ringing her hands together. 

“I would have to change it,” Harry said. There was a long pause. Winnie didn’t want him to break the law for her. “I would have to write on the manifest and marry you to legally change your name. That means once we got to America we’d have to get some kind of marriage licence before I testify; which I know I’ll have to.”

“But Harry, that’s all too sudden. I know that we do share the same feelings for each other but to tie you down now, with someone like me-” 

Harry held up a hand. “Everything I’ve ever done in my life I’ve been sure about.” He took her hands in his, pressing their foreheads together. “And there’s nothing I’ve been more sure about than marrying you, Winifred. I love you and there’s nothing that would make me happier than to marry you.” 

Winnie searched his eyes for a shred of doubt, a shred of anything she thought could lead to trouble or unhappiness. She found nothing. 

For the first time since Titanic, she smiled. A genuine smile. It was like sunshine on a cloudy day. 

“Then I guess we’d better go find a priest.”


	10. Of Vows and Promises

Wednesday afternoon, April 18th aboard the RMS Carpathia

It was a bit of a tizzy trying to explain things to the crew of the Carpathia and surviving officers to rewrite a new passenger manifest. It wasn’t something that was done; it required questioning and rechecking. Harry took up most of the work. 

He also had to write in the old passenger manifest Winnie’s name. He felt awful lying and sneaking around, but he knew that without his help, they’d both be in huge trouble. What a headline:

Titanic Officer and Stowaway Caught in Affair After Sinking

After all was done, all the lies were told, all the officers fooled, Harry and Winnie stood in a little room away from everyone else. The only other person was a priest named Father Anderson. He had sworn to keep the marriage ceremony a secret. 

Winnie stood in a baby blue dress a passenger had lent her, her hair in a braid, her eyes beaming, her cheeks a rosy pink, her lips a plump red. Harry was by her side mirroring her expression. 

“I promise when we get back to my town you’ll have a proper wedding dress and a proper ceremony,” he whispered to her. She chuckled, taking hold of his hand. “There’s nothing more I could ever want than this.” 

The priest stepped forward, a smile on his face. 

“Even in the midst of tragedy,” he started. “ It is God’s will some good thing can come of this. 

“Winifred Cook and Harold Lowe, today you enter as individuals but you will leave as husband and wife. You will come together as one, to share experiences; hardships and pain. You willl dedicate yourselves to each other wholly to become one. From this moment on, you will begin to write a new chapter in your shared life; one of companionship and love.

“I understand you have written your own wedding vows.” 

Previously they had been facing the priest, but now they turned back to each other. Harry began. 

“I haven’t known you very long, Winnie, but I knew, from the moment I found you in the hay with those chickens, that you were going to affect the rest of my life.” He chuckled, looking off to the side. “At first I thought you would ruin me; you would get me in trouble and we’d both be screwed. But when you first slept in my room, made a big deal about the shirt I gave you, I could tell the feelings would start to grow.

“Winnie, you made a dull voyage feel like the biggest adventure of my life. I don’t think I’ve ever been as happy anywhere as I was with you. I’ve always been a man of discipline and respect; I’m cynical and sharp. But never could I think to be that way with you. 

“When we began to act as though we were married, I lost myself in it. I tried to hide the way it made me feel by being distant, but you never failed to lift my spirits every time I got to kiss your forehead or hold your hand. 

“When we kissed the day before dinner I scared myself with how much I felt. And it hurt me to no end when you pulled away. But every moment of that kiss I felt as though I could live an entire life with you; never tired and never worried. 

“When you kissed me back that morning you brought me breakfast was one of the happiest moments of my life. Because, Winnie, if you would have rejected me the way I thought you had, I don’t think I could ever live a full life.

“Winnie, I’d like to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to wake up with you by my side. I want to braid your hair every morning and sit across the table from you. I want to come home every evening with you waiting for me at the door. I want to kiss you until my lungs can’t take it any longer. I want to embrace you until my muscles and bones decay. I want to look at you for an eternity and even longer. I want every moment, every thought, every second and every day to be filled with thoughts of you and only you, until the day I can die by your side, a fulfilled man who had the pleasure to say he loved until he could love no longer.” 

He finished with a smile, his eyes crinkling. Winnie blushed back, biting her lip and looking away. 

“Harry,” she started, “I think I loved you since you let me go down in the kennels. I thought you had to be the nicest, most sincere person; if you were willing to let someone like me free. I never really had a good relationship with authority figures, and God knows I’ve had my fair share of scuffles with ships’ officers, but you were the only one to be kind to me.  
“When I lied about being your wife it was because, deep down, I had entertained the idea of marrying you as soon as I met you. I thought then that it was just pure fantasy but I’m so glad I was wrong. I felt so awful when I forced you to play along, or when I felt that I was embarrassing you. I went to the cafe without you once and tried to study how those rich ladies talked just so I could emulate that. 

“Everytime you kissed me on the forehead or cheek when we were acting, I felt as if we were really married and I revelled in that. And when we kissed for real, to make my lips red, it was the most amazing feeling I’d ever felt. It was even worse when I had to pull away, because I felt as though I was cheating you. I thought, and still sometimes think, I don’t deserve you.

“These past few days have changed my life forever, and even though Titanic turned into a tragedy, it remains the ship of dreams for me. When we get on dry land and handle everything with the Americans, I want nothing more than to spend the rest of my life with you.

“I want to wake every day by your side. I want to make you breakfast like my mother used to do with my father. I want to go through every aching pain you do; I want to share your sadness and your happiness. I want to make you happy every day, because I love you so very dearly that I would gladly give up everything I’ve ever had and ever will have to stay with you. 

“I was confused what love was at first, because you were the first man I’ve ever loved. But I remembered what a dear friend said to me once. She said when he’s around my heart will beat so fast I won’t ever know how to calm it down. When I kiss him I’ll feel like I could stay that way forever. When he’s gone I’ll always think about him; so much that it hurts. When he touches me, my skill will tingle.

“And Harry, I feel that way with you. Not just after we kissed or when I told you I loved you. I felt that from the time I slept in your room on your couch. I love you, truly and wholly, and I would be blessed to spend the rest of my life with you.”

She finished as well. All was quiet save for the sea. 

The priest began again. 

“Harold and Winnie, you have come here on your own free will and in the presence of myself and the Lord, have declared your love for each other. These vows you have exchanged will serve as a symbol of your promise until you have access to rings. By the power of your love and commitment and hardships together, and by the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife.”

There was a long pause and an exchange of awkward glances. Winnie and Harry looked at each other with suppressed smiles then at the pastor who was looking between them. 

“Oh!” he said, hiding a chuckle. “You may now kiss the bride.”


	11. Of Letters and Homesickness

My dearest Harold, 

I know I said I’d wait for you to write me before you left but it’s been weeks and I still haven’t received anything but the post. You can imagine my frustration at this. I miss you ever so dearly and everytime the paper boy comes past I ask him if we’ve won the war yet; he always says no. I think he’s beginning to grow annoyed with me. 

I hope you’re alright. You know how I feel about boats and all that; I haven’t the slightest idea how you were able to get back on a boat after we got home. I suppose that just shows how very brave you are and it’s one of the things I love about you. 

Laurie and Elanor are doing alright; it’s hard without you though. I know they’re only a few months but I believe they got used to the sight of you. Gertrude, the lady across the street with that yappy yorkie puppy, offered to watch them while I pitched in at the factories. They’re a few miles away but the walk is nice and peaceful. It gives me lots of time to think. 

But enough about me. How are you? I don’t remember what boat you’re on but I think it’s quite big. Is it big? Or small? Have you got your own bed, being an officer and all. But are you an officer on that ship? Are there even officers? I haven’t got a clue. 

I’m rambling and running out of room. I suppose I could use the back but I won’t tempt myself. Write back soon if you can. Your family thinks of you often. 

Love, 

Winifred

* * *

Winifred, 

I’m sorry I didn’t write you. Getting used to being at sea again took its toll and I spent these past weeks feeling sick. You should refrain from torturing the paper boy; I fear he’ll stop giving us paper. I’m flattered that you think I’m brave but I think it’s just the fact that I’m stubborn. 

You must give my love to the children. I miss you all too, but just think of when I get home. They won’t even remember I was gone. I intend to make Laurie a fine sailor when he gets old. Tell Gertrude thank you for me; she’s a nice woman, though that yorkie I could do without. 

I hope you won’t exhaust yourself at work. I should grow self conscious if I came back and you had more muscles than me. I am very proud that you are pitching in to help our country, but know that there is nothing more important to me than you, so don’t overexert. The children need you. I need you. 

The boat I am on is not that large. It is a medium sized boat, much like the one we came back on. They do have officers on this boat but they’re much different than the ones on Titanic. I tried to teach you but you never listen. Now that you have it in writing, perhaps you’ll remember. 

I don’t mind you rambling. I could spend hours reading your letters. I hope you’ll send more. They’re the only things that lift my spirits while we’re at sea. 

You and the children are always in my heart,

Harold

* * *

My dearest Harold, 

Your letter put a smile on my face. I nearly kissed the postman when he handed it to me. I should think it would be a scandal if anyone saw me. You will be happy to know I have stopped bugging the paper boy and have taken to just taking getting the post first thing in the morning from his truck. This, however, might annoy him more. 

The children and I have been fantasizing about your return. By that I mean I speak to them and they listen. You should see Elanor’s face when I speak to her. Her eyes grow so big and round. They look just like yours. I wish you could see them. 

I was thinking of getting a family portrait taken and sending it to you so you can have it with you. Is that too much? I would have to retake it when you got back because our family isn’t complete without you. 

Laurie has just said his first words. 

“Dad”

Are you pleased? I thought you would be pleased by that. I talk about you that often, Harry. At first I used to call you by your name to them but I’ve started saying father and dad a lot. Elanor hasn’t spoken but she does mimick my facial expressions pretty well. 

They don’t cry too much, but it’s a handful when they’re having one of their fits. 

What to say…The ivy on the walls outside have started to cover the windows. I’m too short to get them. I was thinking of asking Edward from down the road but when I went to his house his wife said he had gone to war too. Perhaps you’ll see him! Say hello for me!

The bed is awfully cold without you. I was considering getting a dog to fill your spot but what would happen to it when you get back? I would love it too much to make it sleep anywhere else but beside me. Perhaps I won’t get a dog then. 

I heard this new song a girl was singing at work the other day. It went something like “At night, dear heart, for you I pine, in all my dreams, your fair face beams, you're the flower of my heart.” Aren’t those just the nicest lyrics. I should like to put them on a pillow or something; if only I knew how to knit. 

I’ve run out of things to say, I’m afraid. I love you and miss you very much. 

Love, 

Winnie

* * *

Winifred, 

Thank you for replying so quickly. When I read your letters, it’s almost as if you’re here talking to me. You write the same way you speak; but that makes sense, doesn’t it?

I haven’t seen much action, being in the reserves and all, but we’ve hit at least three German cruisers in the last few months. I have to admit the thought of a sinking ship had never before made me happy but seeing them go down did something for me. 

Your letters get longer every time and it comforts me in my bunk. I’ve been informed we’re getting close to a victory on the south Atlantic. We haven’t arrived yet but since the Germans are no longer a threat in this part of the ocean we’re been told to go forward. I tire out more easily than a few years ago. Perhaps it’s the stress. 

I am overjoyed at Laurie’s first words. I wish I could be there to hear him. I feel that I am slacking as a father but I suppose I can’t think that way. I hope I am not slacking as a husband as well. You gave up much to come live with me, even if you don’t realize it. I sometimes wonder what you would be doing if we had never met or if you had hid better with the chickens. 

I hope the children’s crying gets better as well. Perhaps teething? I heard my mother say that once. Speaking of my mother, maybe you could go to visit them or live with them awhile. I’m sure she would be happy to help. Just a thought.. I think you would like the town I used to live in. 

I haven’t heard about Edward but I will make sure to keep an ear out. Maybe he’s with the land forces? I hope he is okay. 

I apologize that my letters aren’t as long as yours. I have little time to write, we’ve been so busy. I think my handwriting is getting sloppier everyday I am at sea. 

Those lyrics to the song are very sweet. I should like to hear it when I get back. In the meantime, I too have heard a song. A lad in my bunk said his sweetheart back home sang it to him the night he shipped off. I suppose her rendition of it was better than his when he sang it to me. The vocals were lacking but the lyrics themselves I think you would like very much. I have included inside a snippet of what he wrote down for me. When you sing it, you must think of me. 

Know that I will be looking up at the same sunset, thinking of you fondly and forever, 

Harry

~Included~

Must you really sail away my Honey Boy 

Must you go

Don’t you know 

When your ship sails down the bay, my Honey Boy

I’ll be true to my Honey Boy, to you 

For I love you best of all, my Honey Boy 

Don’t you sigh 

Time will fly 

When you’re on the deep blue sea, 

Try and think sometimes of me, 

I’ll be waiting anxiously, Honey Boy.

* * *

My dearest Harry, 

Perhaps your letter got stuck in the mail or however those things work. It has been months and I’ve only just received it. I think the song you included was very beautiful; in fact I’ve started singing it to the children before they go to bed. I don’t think they care but it’s the thought that counts, isn’t it?

I don’t believe you’re slacking as a husband or a father, and though we miss you very much, we still love you as if you were here. 

The children have grown ever so big; Laurie’s just started talking and Elanor is catching on as well. I don’t think moving in with your parents will be a good idea. It’s a long move and also we’ve only met a few times. I appreciate the thought though. 

Perhaps it’s selfish but I’m glad you haven’t seen much action. I fear if you saw a lot I would lose you.Try to stay out of too much trouble. 

I finally got the ivy down. I used a ladder from one of the shops in town. The owner was kind enough to let me burrow it for a few hours. I’ll have to thank him somehow. 

The house is getting messier by the day. The children have already started walking and have taken to grabbing things. I’ve had to put up all the pointy and flammable objects. The lantern you bought me for my birthday was almost broken. Imagine the scare I had when I saw it teetering off the edge of the mantle. 

I read in the paper that they’re speaking of a treaty of some sort. I hope that fixes everything and you come back. I promise to clean up and comb my hair. The children and I will be on our best behavior. 

Oh! Laurie’s gotten hold of one of my books. I have to get him before he begins to eat it. He’s getting his final teeth; the ones in the back. I’m sorry my letter’s not as long as usual. I promise they’ll be longer in the future. Ah! And I took that family photo. I’ve got one and I’m mailing one to you with this letter. Perhaps keep it in your pocket. 

Loving you always and forever,  
Winnie

* * *

Winnie, 

Thank you for the picture. I’ve got a pocket in my uniform right atop my heart. Whenever I feel stressed I pull it out and gaze at your faze. The children have gotten bigger! I’ve been away far too long. But you look the same as when I left. Did you cut your hair? I could swear it was longer when I left!

I’m sorry to hear my mail was delayed. I think the mail ship had to take a detour of some kind because of a U-boat on its route. I’m just thankful it reached you. 

How long has it been since I’ve been with you? Let’s see…I left in 1916 and I’m fairly certain we’re reaching the end of 1918 now. This is the longest I’ve been away. 

I have exciting news though. My fleet has been recalled! We are being sent back to England! Rejoice on the ship is momentous. I write to you now looking out at sea. I can already smell the honeysuckles in the yard and apple cider. 

We should be home within the next few months if everything goes right. I dream of holding you in my arms and kissing you till I cannot kiss you anymore. How I have missed the warmth of having someone else in my bed, or the tranquility I feel when you lay your head on my chest. 

Darling, I promise when I get back, you will never feel sadness again. If you cry, you will do it happily. If your heart aches, it will be from loving too much. These past years have been a strain, and you and I both feel that. I promise I will strive to be the best father and best husband you truly deserve. And I promise that your lips will always be red. 

Wait for me, 

Harry

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> Hullo everyone, I'm the author of this long ass story. I would just like to say to those who got through this: thank you. Thank you for reading, thank you for committing, thank you for support and love and everything else. This story actually used to be a fan fiction of the movie Titanic, but I wrote it when I was much younger and decided to revise it for a writing class. It used to be twenty-three pages and a one-shot, but you can see how much it's changed. 
> 
> This story is one of my favorites and I had so much fun revising and remembering. It brings back really great memories of childhood and now I can have new memories of writing it. 
> 
> Harold Lowe, one of the main characters in this, was a real person and a real hero. He also had a real family and real children. His family still lives on today and I would like to say I have and never have had any intention to make anyone of his relatives uncomfortable. I saw him on the movie and instantly felt a connection. 
> 
> I searched for stories and found a few good ones but felt that something was missing. So I wrote one myself. I've seen posts of the Lowe family speaking on how odd it is to see stories, love stories, about their relative and I totally understand. 
> 
> This work is pure fiction, an offspring of an idea I had a few years ago. I tried my hardest to make this as historically accurate and detailed as possible. Believe me, I have spent many a long night researching Officer's schedules and deck plans. I think the American and immigrant control might be weary of me with how much I've researched how to sneak in. I have also become a prominent member of many forums and Titanic sites. 
> 
> I think I could teach about Titanic at this point lol. Perhaps I'll become a historian…
> 
> Anyway, thank you for reading the product of my insanity. I think I'll take a break from writing for awhile, reflect on my life choices. I started revising in late April and now, in July, a year older and a few pennies shorter, I am done. 
> 
> Ah! And relating to the title, it was inspired by a song I listened to quite frequently while writing. I'll link it down below. 
> 
> I love you all, and I hope you enjoyed. 
> 
> "Thinking of you always and forever,"
> 
> DoE  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H0XWEGP4tik


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